


your final kiss belongs to me

by auri_mynonys



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Accidental Sparkbonding, Codependency, Domestication, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Exhibitionism, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Medical Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, Plug & Play, Poly DJD, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Skull Fucking, Slow Burn, Sparkbond, Sparkbonding, Stalking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, field play, help i'm in hell this ship is killing me, memories of rape/non-con, more tags as the fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auri_mynonys/pseuds/auri_mynonys
Summary: When the Pet is badly injured, Kaon does the only thing he can think to do: he calls a doctor. Like a good medic, Pharma answers. But when Kaon becomes the patient Pharma must care for, things go terribly awry... and the resulting event leaves Kaon and Pharma bound inextricably together. Two mechs who loathe each other suddenly find themselves falling hard and fast for one another in a match made in hell.





	1. Bonds of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> HI MY NAME IS AURI AND I LIKE TO SHIP PAINFUL, COMPLICATED, MESSY, GROSS RAREPAIRS
> 
> So what's up, this is my Pharma/Kaon chapterfic. It... uh... got away from me, y'all. I just have so many feelings about these two and how they could wind up together aaahhhhh
> 
> First chapter is fairly tame, but I anticipate this fic going some EXTREMELY dark places. I will provide CWs before each chapter so you have an idea of what you're getting into, and tags will be updated as the fic progresses.
> 
> The fic is primarily about Kaon/Pharma, but Tarn/Kaon, Pharma/Tarn, and Tarn/Pharma/Kaon get the spotlight throughout. Dominus/Kaon is referred to frequently, and there are casual mentions of Helex/Kaon and Vos/Kaon. 
> 
> Anyway uh enjoy this filth, I will try to be a good human and update regularly bUT I'm undeniably the worst about updates so

“Scalpel, please.” Pharma held out his hand for the instrument, optics locked on his patient. Even with all the heaters in the clinic on full blast, the operating room was unpleasantly cold, the chill of Messatine seeping in through every wayward crack in the walls and foundation. Pharma’s wings flicked irritably. He hadn’t been warm since he’d come to this hellhole of a planet. Not since - 

No. He was _not_ going to think about the DJD, or its leader. Not now. He was _busy,_ dammit.

Pharma scanned his patient: a small, stout miner with a frame of moldy green. Designation: Gadget. Altmode: ground transport. A carrier of minerals, ores and stones. He was short and wide, shorter than most of Phama’s patients these days - maybe of a height with Vos, or shorter -

_No!_ Pharma gritted his dentae. He was _not going to think about the DJD._ Not while he was working. Not while he was busy doing what he was supposed to do as a medic.

_But my dear doctor,_ Tarn’s voice purred, a memory clicking to life in Pharma’s processor. _I’m a patient in need. Isn’t that your calling - to_ **_help those in need?_ **

“Pharma?” Ambulon’s voice pitched up with the unspoken question. Pharma’s gaze snapped to him, a sneer of disdain hiding the sudden heat rushing to Pharma’s faceplates.

“Decepticon,” Pharma replied, gratified when Ambulon winced. He snatched the laser scalpel out of Ambulon’s hand, ignoring the wash of hurt from the leg’s field. Ambulon was perfectly competent at his job - _more_ than competent - but his past as a Decepticon tied him to the enemy: a crime Pharma could never forgive.

Not in Ambulon. Not in himself.

“I need all lights, if you please,” Pharma said, directing the words to First Aid. First Aid clicked on the surgical light, flooding the operating table with a brilliant glow. _If only the light would throw off some heat._ “Excellent. Stand by, I’m going to open his chest plating now.”

The operation was a mindless thing, really: some wires damaged by dirt and grime, a few circuits going haywire with the ice. Simple. Routine. Decidedly below Pharma’s skill level. He could easily have left this to Ambulon and First Aid, and they’d told him as much.

But then he’d have to be in his office, alone, thinking about Tarn and that Voice and those _hands_ \- and Pharma couldn’t bear that.

Even a small distraction was better than nothing.

Gadget’s chest plate drew back with a hiss, revealing a poorly maintenanced interior. Pharma sniffed with displeasure, gently prodding the mess of dirty wires, circuits and cables. “Ambulon,” Pharma said. “Kindly send a memo to the miners that regular checkups and maintenance work are _not_ optional. And check our records to see who missed their scheduled appointments on the last round. This little fellow obviously skipped his last several.”

“Yes, sir.” Ambulon folded his arms and watched sullenly as Pharma bent over Gadget’s chest. Well, let the mech pout. Pharma was here, doing a task that was beneath him; Ambulon could do the same. It’s not like it would kill him.

Not like the DJD would kill him, if Pharma failed them.

Pharma’s grip tightened on the laser scalpel, optics stinging as his field sparked with anxiety. Tarn wanted t-cogs on a regular basis, and Pharma had sworn to provide them; now Tarn wanted even more of him, wanted Pharma himself begging and open and willing whenever he came to the base -

And Pharma was. Damn him to the Pit: he was.

_Stop. Focus. You have a patient on the table who requires your full attention. He needs a medic, and that’s what you are in the end._

That notion finally focused him: that he was a medic, that he had a job to do, and that someone needed him. Pharma liked being needed. The helping didn’t matter so much as the _needing_ did.

Pharma lifted the laser scalpel and set it to a crusty line, ready to begin scraping muck and grime away -

And then his comm went off.

Pharma started at the sound, as loud as a scream to him, as the caller’s ID blipped up on his HUD. He would know that string of numbers and black square anywhere: a telltale question mark standing out in energon-pink in its center.

Why bother with a name, when one color so succinctly told him who was calling?

Thank Primus for the steadiness of Pharma’s surgeon’s hands, or he might have accidentally cut a line when that question mark filled his vision. _Damn him!_ They had discussed this when they’d first made their pact: during certain hours, Pharma was to be left alone, _always,_ so he could work without arousing suspicion. There were cycles designated specifically for Tarn to contact him, cycles where Pharma was alone, cycles where he wasn’t just about to start a surgery -

To the Pit with Tarn. If this wasn’t an absolute emergency, Pharma was going to damage the tank’s newest t-cog himself, just to spite the him.

Pharma forced his field to exude calm as he set down his tools on the operating table. “First Aid, take over,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m receiving a high-priority call.”

Ambulon and First Aid exchanged glances. “Can’t it wait?” Ambulon said. “I know Gadget’s not really in any danger, but - ”

The comm’s beep increased in speed. Tarn was starting to lose patience. _It’s only been a few seconds!_ Pharma’s spark whirled, an anxious flutter in his chest cavity. “Would I leave a surgery if it was anything less than an emergency?” he snapped. “Really, Ambulon. I know you used to be a Decepticon, but we have a little thing called _professionalism_ among the Autobot ranks.”

At least Pharma had the satisfaction of seeing Ambulon flinch. His optics dimmed, a slight twinge twisting his lip plates. _Serves you right._

“That’s not fair,” First Aid said, leaping to Ambulon’s defense. His visor streamed wide and bright, field surging with anger. “Pharma, you know that isn’t - ”

Pharma cut First Aid off, tossing him the laser scalpel. “Save it,” he said, hurrying to the wash station to scrub his hands. “I don’t have time for excuses.” The light in his HUD had gone to red, the volume of the alert rising by decibels as Pharma wiped his hands. Pharma gritted his dentae, struggling to think. “This call may take some time,” he said, hoping he sounded casual. “I’ll be locked in my habsuite for awhile. Try not to bother me, yes? Can you manage that?”

“Yeah, pretty sure we can manage,” Ambulon said, voice laced with acid. “Should we send you a report on Gadget when - ”

“Tomorrow,” Pharma said, focusing on the door. The comm was painfully loud now, a little gift from Tarn in case Pharma ever attempted to ignore him. “Give it to me tomorrow.”

He clicked his way out the door without looking back, helm bowed as he all but ran towards his habsuite.

_I swear to Vector Sigma, I’m going to kill him._

He answered at last when his door was in sight. “ _What the frag do you think you’re doing?_ ” Pharma snarled, by way of greeting. “We _discussed_ this, it’s not safe during - ”

“Pharma.”

Pharma froze, a chill that wasn’t due to the cold sending a full-frame shudder through him. That… wasn’t Tarn’s voice. Tarn’s voice was as distinctive as he’d ever expected: deep, low and rumbling, like heavy velvet tire treads rolling over a rocky field. Tarn’s voice had a way of easing into the cracks and crevices of Pharma’s processor, slipping down his spinal struts, plucking a shudder from an otherwise-perfectly controlled frame.

This voice was different. Low and rich, but thinner than Tarn’s, edged in brief pops and crackles of static. There was a buzz of energy in the two syllables of Pharma’s name as he spoke it.

This voice was Kaon’s.

Pharma stood silent outside his door a second or two longer, processor spinning wildly. None of the other members of the DJD had _ever_ tried to contact him before. While he’d had more encounters than he cared to recall with the Justice Division’s team, there had never been a situation where one of them might need to reach him. All that communication went directly through Tarn. It was easier, less messy. They’d all agreed to that.

That it was Kaon calling was even stranger. Kaon had taken one long, humming scan of Pharma’s slightly-smaller frame, field radiating absolute loathing, before turning aside and snubbing Pharma entirely, wearing a scowl so deep it seemed engraved into his faceplates. He’d never worn anything but that same twisted little scowl whenever Pharma saw him: a deep-set frown, faceplates shifting oddly around the place where his optics should sit. Even Kaon’s duty as Pharma’s guide to the base didn’t seem to ease the chair’s loathing for him. 

Kaon _hated_ him. So why was he calling, in the middle of the day, without passing the request through Tarn first?

“Kaon,” Pharma said, after glancing behind him to make sure no one was close. “I was expecting your commander.” It sounded absurd phrased that way - Kaon _was_ the Division’s communication officer, after all. Maybe Tarn was indisposed. Maybe Tarn was dying. Now _there_ was a lovely thought.

“I’m not calling for him,” Kaon said. Was it Pharma’s imagination, or was Kaon’s voice trembling? That would be a delightful turn. Pharma had never seen Kaon in distress before. “I need you.”

The words sent a second, decidedly _not_ frightened shudder through him. _Stop that. This is the last mech you can afford to want._ Pharma slapped his code into the door and stepped inside his habsuite, glaring into empty air. “ _You_ need me? What possible use could _you_ have for me? You don’t even like being within ten meters of me if you can help it.” He was being reckless and stupid speaking that way to Kaon and he knew it. He had some idea of his boundaries with Tarn, but he’d never tested his limits with Kaon before.

“It’s a medical emergency,” Kaon said. His voice rose a few decibels, the edges of his words bleeding into static. “I need you here in five kliks, tops.”

“Five kli - Kaon, I _can’t,_ ” Pharma hissed, glancing at the door. He didn’t _think_ he’d been followed, but what if Ambulon or First Aid had come to check on him? He checked the soundproofing protocols in his suite, just to be sure. “Tarn’s cogs can wait until the scheduled ti - ”

“ _I’m not calling for Tarn!_ ” The shriek of rage nearly shattered Pharma’s audial. Pharma cowered back against the wall, as if the electric chair was there in the room with him. “This isn’t about t-cogs or some low-level injury. I need a medic, and you’re the only one I know. _Get. Out. Here. Now._ ”

Kaon may not have had Tarn’s Voice, but he didn’t need it to make Pharma obey. Pharma realized he was already reaching for his medical kit before he’d even had a chance to think about doing so. “Where are you?” he asked, grabbing for a tarp to warm himself in Messatine’s cold winter air. _HA. Warm. As if._ “Are you at the base?”

“N-no.” Kaon was _definitely_ stuttering, possibly near tears. Pharma felt a small twinge of delight at the sound. “Outside. Not far from Delphi. I’ll send my coordinates.”

A ping later, and there it was on Pharma’s HUD: Kaon’s _exact_ location. Pharma paused, eyeing the coordinates. _Not the most prudent thing to do under the circumstances…_ Kaon must truly be desperate to be so rash. The chair was right, too - he was _very_ close to Delphi. Close enough to arrest, if Pharma grabbed ever miner in the base. They could probably overpower Kaon if he was wounded, and then -

And then he would tell them that Pharma had betrayed them, and Pharma would lose _everything._

Pharma’s spark swirled and dimmed behind the glass of his cockpit. For a split-second, he had thought he might finally be free of this nightmarish charade; but that had been a stupid, naive thought. He’d gotten himself into this mess, and he’d never find a way to get himself out - not until all the DJD were wiped off the face of the planet.

He swept his kit off the table and wrapped the tarp tight around himself, resigned to his fate. “Received. I’m on my way. Can you detail the injuries for me?”

“S-some kind of cyberbear,” Kaon said. The wind howled around him, almost drowning out his voice. “Gouges and shredded metal. Lots of energon leaking out. How do I save him?”

“Him?” Pharma questioned.

“The Pet,” Kaon snapped, as if it should have been obvious. “ _How do I save him?_ ”

Pharma stopped. He was being called to treat an _animal_ ? A _Decepticon_ animal? And Kaon considered that an emergency worth risking his safety and security for?

Pharma’s lip curled. No. This was an insult to his skills as a medic. He was _not_ going to stoop to treating the Pet of all creatures, consequences be damned. “I’m not an animal doctor, Kaon,” he said flatly. “I treat _mechs._ Actual, upright, intelligent - ” 

“He _is_ a mech.”

Pharma wished Kaon was in front of him, so he could slap him right across those gaping sockets. “As a turbofox - sparkeater - whatever you want to call him - he’s a technoorganic, but not in _any way_ similar to - ”

“You’re not listening,” Kaon said. “This is his alt mode. The Pet is a Cybertronian.”

Pharma’s processor stalled. No. It couldn’t be. Not even the DJD would be so monstrous. It wasn’t _possible -_

_“_ The Pet was our previous Vos,” Kaon continued, when Pharma didn’t reply. He tripped over the words, little _kzzt_ noises hiccuping between them. “He was… I loved… ” He exvented, a hum of electricity sounding nearby. “... We were close,” he finished. “Where are you?! He’s _dying,_ I need you here _now!_ ”

Pharma stood rooted to the spot, his medical kit falling from nerveless servos. The Pet - the grotesque, slavering monster that Kaon kept chained to him at all times - was a _person_. He’d been a bipedal, intelligent mech once, fully functional, like Pharma and Kaon… only to be turned into a monster, kept on a leash, cooed and crooned at like a cute little toy. Domesticated. Decimated.

Pharma muted his comm and retched.

“Pharma?” Kaon’s voice echoed, high and panicked. “ _Pharma?”_

Pharma gripped the edge of his berth, steadying himself. His processor spun wildly with excuses. _I can’t treat him. His altmode is too different. I’ve never fixed a domesticated Cybertronian before. It’s too far. It’s too cold. Take him to Tarn. Let him die. He deserves a good death._

“Pharma,” Kaon hissed, his voice taut with anger. “I can’t lose him again. If he dies, then so will you.”

And there it was. Pharma gave a hollow laugh, still bent over his berth. That was the price the DJD constantly threatened to exact: Pharma’s life, and the lives of his staff, the lives of every Autobot on Messatine, if he didn’t do what they asked. The stark reality of his situation struck him hard, dwarfing every other thought.

If Kaon and the rest of the DJD had been willing to disfigure one of their own like this… what would they do to _him_ if he didn’t do as Kaon asked?

Worse: what would _Kaon_ do to someone he hated, if this was what he did to someone he loved?

Pharma exvented and stood, drawing his medic’s mannerisms about him like armor. He unmuted his comm, forcing his vocalizer not to shake. “I’m on my way,” he said. “Five kliks.”

He cut the line, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and bent to grab his dropped medical kit, forcing one foot in front of the other until he was out the door.


	2. Fear is a Lovely Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaon does nothing by halves. This includes falling for wayward Autobot doctors he'd rather hate than want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO AGAIN, FRIENDS! I did it, I kept to a schedule! Hooray me! 
> 
> CW for mild robogore, domestication, medical procedures, and general creepiness from Kaon. 
> 
> Lots of casual mentions of Poly!DJD within. If you hit something I should have warned for but forgot, PLEASE let me know so I can fix it ASAP.

Messatine was nothing but stark white and cold gray. Flat and colorless, it offered little in the way of visual variety: a sea of endless snow and ice, stretching on into forever.

Kaon stood out against the monotony like the blaring red of an alarm. Bolts of electricity danced between his towering coils,  _ kzzzzzt  _ sounds slicing through the roar of the icy wind that whipped around him. The pink stains of his Pet’s energon stood out just as starkly, steam rising from the gaping wounds in his side as snowy crystals collected around their edges. 

Kaon might not have been able to  _ see  _ it, but he  _ felt  _ it. All the colors were recreated in his processor in brilliant splashes as his echolocation mapping caught upon their shifting prisms. Gridlines and field data interrupted the messy visual his processor created for him: soft purple around the Pet, black around Kaon’s body, burning, fiery red around the cyberbear that had tried to kill his love.

Kaon snarled, pressing an energon-slicked hand against the Pet’s wounds as a shock of electricity shot from him. That  _ animal  _ wouldn’t take his darling from him. He wouldn’t allow it. Out of every force that had conspired to tear him and Vos apart, this wouldn’t be the one to succeed. Pharma was coming. He would be there soon, and he would fix Kaon’s Pet. It didn’t matter just now that Tarn had been neglecting Kaon in favor of the jet; it didn’t matter that Pharma was Autobot, that he was arrogant, that he was everything Kaon had ever been taught as a Decepticon to despise.

He was going to save the Pet - or he would die. It was that simple.

Kaon felt Pharma approaching before the mech even appeared on his grid: his field awash with fear and anger and discomfort, a shifting pattern of emotion that Kaon allowed to roll over him as the medic came closer. Electric prickles danced over his sensornet, licking at his plating, filling him with feeling that was not his own. The generator that formed his core was good for many things - not the least of which included an enhanced EM field. It was another way of seeing without seeing, and now, despite his best efforts, all Kaon could see was Pharma. 

It was a matter of moments before Kaon’s coils caught Pharma’s frame; blurred at first, slowly coalescing into a distinctive, winged shape. Parts of him faded into the snowy landscape, but his helm, his cockpit, the dark blue of his medic’s hands, all stood like inkblots against his surroundings.

He spotted Kaon and clambered through the snow, bleeding his emotions out of his field one by one. A doctor’s professionalism. It was… fascinating to observe as the cold medic’s mask came down around Pharma, cutting Kaon off from him. Despite himself, Kaon felt a prickle of interest, as he always did when Pharma was around.

Pharma’s helm turned, bright optics catching on the corpse of the cyberbear that lay nearby. For one gratifying second, terror flared in his field, a beautiful shade of green that was Kaon’s favorite. 

Fear was  _ such  _ a lovely color.

Pharma only stared a few seconds before turning back to Kaon, shaking anxiety from his wings as easily as he might have done snowflakes. He strode to Kaon’s side and knelt by the Pet, all business: examining the Pet’s wounds with delicate hands, his frown curving the gridlines that formed Kaon’s vision. Kaon waited as Pharma parted the Pet’s protofur to examine the depths of the wounds, the torn lines, the internal circuitry sparking unpleasantly into the wintry air.

He stalled when he made out the shape of Vos’s hand, somewhere deep inside his internals, his field flaring with that same lovely green shade of horror.

Surely he’d seen things like this before. A mech who killed as readily as Pharma had to have seen and done worse. Kaon had been forged into violence from the start, and while he’d never known the pampered life that Pharma had, he imagined that the interminable millenia of war had had much the same effect on Pharma as years of torture had had on him.

Kaon tilted his helm, letting his coils pulse in regular beats so he could see Pharma’s frame. “How bad is it?”   
  
The greenish shade of Pharma’s field dimmed into stark gray, like the landscape, like all the things Kaon wasn’t deliberately pinging at the moment. Cold. Professional. Medical. Kaon had to admit a begrudging admiration for the doctor, never allowing his emotions to get in the way of his work. 

“I won’t lie,” Pharma said, turning to his medical kit. “It -  _ he  _ looks pretty bad. But he’s survived this long, which I’ll take as a good sign for now. He’s going to need a transfusion, and those gashes have to be temporarily sutured. We can’t move him until that’s done.” 

Kaon nodded, having expected as much. A heat signature flared to life in Pharma’s hand: a soldering iron, small and precise, good for sealing the delicate lines within. Good - the medic was setting to work, and quickly.   
  
“The cold may actually be saving his life,” Pharma continued. “It’s causing his energon to run slower through his lines. I’m going to try not to heat him up too much until all the punctures are sealed.”

Kaon nodded a second time, taking the stillness of the moment to just…  _ feel  _ Pharma. He had had plenty of opportunity to examine the jet at his leisure, but he’d never really taken the time. It was a small, petty thing, but Kaon resented Pharma’s presence in the DJD’s day-to-day. Of  _ course  _ they needed a medic on the team; that wasn’t the reason he disliked the doctor. The medic was a jet, and an Autobot to boot: pretty and well-appointed, but equally aristocratic and snobbish, and more importantly,  _ on the wrong side.  _

Kaon would happily grant Tarn whatever vices he wished - Primus knew Tarn did the same for him - but it struck him as borderline treasonous to rely on an Autobot to supply said vices. No matter  _ how  _ pretty said Autobot was.   
  
It was worse now that Tarn was fragging the little doctor on virtually every surface in the base. Tarn had been clear from the beginning that he wasn’t interested in monogamy, and Kaon had been happy to agree to his terms. But the thing about sharing was that Kaon was supposed to get an  _ equal share  _ of Tarn’s time and attention. That had been Tarn’s problem with Kaon’s Vos: he’d usurped all of Kaon’s time and affection, dragging him from the others in the team who loved him too. Who, for all intents and purposes, loved him  _ more. _

They hadn’t turned out to be traitors, after all.    
  
Kaon shook that unwelcome thought right out of his processor. However much Tarn had claimed to loathe the Pet’s presence in Kaon’s life, he had become just as bad with Pharma as Kaon had been with  _ his _ Vos. Kaon had thrown himself at Tarn more times than he could count over the passing quartexes, but Tarn had waved him off each time, making excuses.  _ I’m tired. I have work to do. Maybe later, sweetspark. _

Funny how he never seemed tired when Pharma was around.

The Pet whimpered, and Kaon turned to him, laying a hand against his head. “It’s alright, darling,” he murmured, as the Pet’s red, cracked optic turned to him. “You’re going to be fine. I’m going to keep you safe, like I promised. You’re going to be safe…”

_ And if you aren’t… I’ll kill Pharma myself. _

“Out of a certain… medical curiosity, shall we say,” Pharma said, breaking Kaon’s focus. “Why do you turn your helm like that when you hear something, or when you’re speaking to someone? You can’t…  _ see  _ them, can you?”

Kaon paused, about to snap that the Autobot should be more concerned about his patient and less about Kaon - but a quick pulse of his coils confirmed that Pharma was still hard at work, focused on stopping the flow of the energon seeping from the Pet’s wounds. “Is it considered good practice among the Autobots to chatter while performing a surgery?” Kaon asked instead. The bitterness in his voice was as sharp as the wind.

Pharma’s field flared with annoyance - an ugly shade of yellow, and an appropriately irritating itch under Kaon’s backplates. “The wounds are bad, but nothing I can’t handle with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back,” he said. “I merely wondered, professionally speaking. I’ve seen a great many modifications in my time, but I’ve never met a blind mech before.”

“Really?” Kaon smoothed his hand over the Pet’s head, listening to the erratic sound of his vents for any change. He seemed calmer, his field confused and full of pain, but relaxed - assured that his love was here, and that he was being cared for. “I suppose you’ve not met a mech with the same electrical capabilities that I have.”

Pharma actually  _ laughed  _ at that - a short bark of laughter, bright in the otherwise still air. “There are no other mechs like you, Kaon,” he said. “You are… unique.”

Despite himself, Kaon beamed. He had always liked being praised, being special - and he hadn’t gotten much of that around the base lately. “Flattery will get you everywhere, doctor,” he said. Kaon settled into the snow, keeping his hand near the Pet in case his darling needed him. “Since you’ve decided to be so nice, I suppose I can indulge you. No, I can’t  _ see,  _ not the way that most mechs can. But I do process visual data to an extent. I use echolocation to build an image within an internal grid in my processor. The mapping program selects colors according to threat level, mood, background, and external visual data. I can see EM fields too, and feel them from a distance. It’s… almost like seeing in 365 degrees, if you like.”

“Fascinating...” Pharma said the word with genuine interest: not with the usual sarcastic drawl. “I always wondered how it worked. Thank you for telling me.”

“I… you’re welcome.” Kaon was taken aback by this unusually genteel display. Maybe working brought out the best in Pharma. At any rate, the work he was performing was excellent; a quick scan indicated that the Pet was no longer bleeding and that his vital signs were beginning to stabilize. 

The soldering iron blinked out of Kaon’s heat signature readout, fading into oblivion. “The major bleeds should be closed now,” Pharma said, reaching for a sanitation kit to clean his hands - deep blue and talented beyond what Kaon had imagined. He felt a small prickle of heat near his spark.  _ I suppose I can see what Tarn sees in him…  _ “I would still recommend a transfusion. He’s lost too much energon to survive without one.”

“As you say. I trust your medical opinion.” It felt…  _ odd  _ to say it,  _ trust;  _ but he did trust the Autobot, at least in this. Pharma had come without pretense to help the Pet, as quickly as he’d promised, and he was giving the same effort he might have given any other mech, despite the Pet’s domestication. 

Kaon might actually be beginning to  _ like  _ the slagging glitch.

“Hand me the transfusion kit, please,” Pharma said, holding out his hand. Kaon gave it to him without complaint, tilting his helm in Pharma’s direction. His coils pulsed, sending lazy waves of energy over Pharma’s frame: his equivalent of a lingering stare. “I might need you to act as one of the donors. Can you do that?”

Kaon nodded, frowning as Pharma withdrew several needles. “ _ One _ of the donors?”

“Yes,” Pharma said, inserting one of the needles into one of his own lines. “I will also act as a donor while we do this. He’s lost a lot of energon, and staying out in this cold won’t do either of us any favors. The faster this is finished, the better.”

Kaon’s empty sockets jumped in an attempt to cycle wide. “Can… can you  _ do  _ that?”

He almost bristled at the condescending laugh Pharma gave in response. “My dear electric friend,” Pharma said, “Acting as a donor while performing a surgery is one of my most famed accomplishments. Not standard medical practice, you understand, but nothing about this situation is particularly standard.” He reached out and took hold of Kaon’s arm, gently pulling it towards him. “I’m going to hook you up now. You might feel a slight pinch. Let me know if you start to feel your processor swimming, I have medical grade on hand.” 

“Of course you do.” Kaon smiled, a crooked half-grin he usually reserved for Tarn, or Helex, or occasionally the  _ other  _ Vos - the new one, the replacement. “You’re  _ quite _ impressive, Pharma.”

Pharma’s hand trembled just so at the words, his field lighting orange and pink with pleasure and - was that  _ arousal?  _ Kaon’s smile widened, predatory and eager.  _ Someone has a praise kink,  _ Kaon singsonged to himself.  _ Just like me. _

“I like to think so,” Pharma said, after resetting his vocalizer. He returned to his work, keeping his head down. Kaon reached out with his field to feel Pharma’s, touching confusion and fear. He’d unnerved the little jet with the compliment - unnerved him, and turned him on, a slight buzz of desire tingeing the worry and alarm in his field.

What a delightful game this was turning out to be. If not for the damaged Pet, Kaon might have actually  _ enjoyed  _ this.

“I’m going to begin the transfusion,” Pharma said, all brusque professionalism. He really did have a talent for hiding what he felt. “Bear with me, please.” 

Kaon sat back and let Pharma work, monitoring himself as fresh energon was drawn from his systems and into his beloved’s. The Pet’s pain levels were still high, but he was relaxed now, calm as the nanites in his system began to work. The fresh flow of energon brought them to life, swarming up to the damaged plating and broken circuits. Kaon could feel them clustering around the wounds, beginning the arduous work of fixing their host. 

Kaon turned his attention back to Pharma. The doctor held a scanner, monitoring the Pet’s vital signs as the fresh energon reached him and the temporary welds settled. He’d lost himself in the readouts, pondering them. He seemed pleased with what he was seeing, if his field was any indication. His wings fluttered, clicking against Kaon’s shoulder on accident, a slight electric shock causing that wing to twitch and jump away. Kaon wondered how sensitive those wings were; if Pharma let Tarn play with them, if Tarn ever scratched them up while they fragged. If Kaon could tease them into flicking with his field.

He experimented, letting his field roll in a prickle of energy over Pharma’s wings. They fluttered, trying to throw off whatever had disturbed them; but Pharma barely seemed to notice. He was lost in his patient, tracking his energon levels, monitoring his vitals. Kaon wasn’t about to try distracting him from that task. But maybe another time…

“He’s beginning to stabilize,” Pharma said, more to fill silence than for Kaon’s benefit. “We should be able to move him in the next few kliks. Do you have transport?”

Ah yes. Transport. To the DJD base. Kaon had forgotten in all this mess to call Tarn, and though he knew he really ought to before just showing up with Pharma… well. He feared what Tarn might say if he learned the Pet had been mortally wounded. Better to repair the Pet and take his punishment after.

Tarn might let the Pet die otherwise; and Kaon didn’t want to take that risk. Not for anything.

“I’ll retrieve it when the transfusion is complete,” he said, drawing his field close to himself again. With any luck, his moment of indecision had been shielded from Pharma.

“We should be finished about… now.” Pharma unhooked Kaon first, then himself, carefully welding the opening closed where the transfusion had been made. He removed the tarp he’d wrapped around himself and slung it over the Pet, who gave a grateful whine in response, optics closing.  _ Sweet doctor, caring for my darling like that. How kind.  _

Pharma paused, hesitating over the Pet’s form. His field turned a mournful shade of blue, pitying and sad. Apologetic - as if he had not done enough. As if he was sorry he could not do  _ more. _

Then the Autobot did something extraordinary: he  _ petted  _ the Pet. Blue hands left sparkling trails of sorrow behind as they ran through protofur, soothing the Pet’s head. Kaon watched, vents stalling, as the Pet let his eyes closed, pressing into Pharma’s touch. Contentment and a sense of safety radiated from him. He believed he was safe with Pharma. He trusted the doctor, too.

Kaon’s spark stuttered, flickering with an intensity he’d not felt in a long,  _ long  _ time.

“He likes you,” he said quietly. He must have startled Pharma, for the jet withdrew his hand, whipping his helm in Kaon’s direction. Suddenly they were face to face, optic-to-socket: closer than they had ever deliberately been. Kaon’s vents stalled  _ again _ , a tumultuous wave of his own field and Pharma’s tangling all around him. Had he been the one to get this close? He didn’t remember moving nearer. He hadn’t done it on purpose. Oh, this close he could actually  _ feel  _ the heat of Pharma’s spark, the wind whipping through his turbines and ventilation systems…

His eyes: Kaon could  _ see _ them with a clarity he’d only ever achieved with Tarn. They glowed sky blue, dwarfing everything, cold and perfect and beautiful.

“He doesn’t like very many mecha,” Kaon finished - an afterthought, murmured on the barest vent, as he scanned downwards, to the medic’s mouth.

Pharma swallowed, his intake rising and falling nervously. “I’m sure he’s just tired and in pain. He’ll be back to snarling at me within the week.”

Kaon shrugged. It was within the realm of possibility; but Kaon knew his Pet. His trust, once earned, was absolute. 

Pharma would learn. He would know soon enough the loyalty he had won.

“Perhaps,” Kaon said instead. He forced himself to rise, suddenly aware of the biting chill, the danger to his love. He held out his hand for Pharma’s, expectant. “Let’s get back to base before we all freeze to death. You have an operation to perform.”

Pharma took Kaon’s offered hand, field blooming with shock when Kaon closed his fingers over his and pulled him up, up - directly against the turbine in his chest, near the bright flaring light of his spark. Oh, that was  _ nice.  _ Kaon had missed having a smaller partner to hold. New Vos was… acceptable, he supposed, but he didn’t compare to  _ this _ : Pharma wide-eyed, shocked, and shivering against him, field overflowing with feeling. 

“Open,” Kaon singsonged, tapping the back of Pharma’s helm with his other hand. He still hadn’t released Pharma’s fingers, holding him in a vice grip. He hadn’t held anyone’s hand in awhile, either. Helex’s hands were too big, and Tarn wasn’t really a hand-holding type. Vos preferred to dig his little fingers into Kaon’s seams, using them like claws to climb up and perch on Kaon’s shoulders.

This was much better.

Pharma’s field was ablaze with alarm, processor attempting to sort fear from comfort and desire: deciding whether he should curl closer, or step back. “I… what?” he stammered, wings fluttering.

Kaon tracked the movement with a quick flare of his coils, feeling the smallest breeze generated by those tiny winglets. Pharma was  _ adorable _ when he was flustered. “Your optics, Doctor,” Kaon said, still smiling, still holding Pharma close.

“Oh!” A swell of relief washed over the medic, and he withdrew a panel at the back of his helm for Kaon to access. 

Kaon laughed to himself as he reached behind Pharma’s helm, hunting for the necessary switches. He knew them intimately by now, the exact feel of those manual optic overrides familiar against his fingertips. “Did you forget, darling?” he said. “We can’t have you seeing where the transport takes you, can we?”

“I - right, of course. It just… slipped my mind this time.” Pharma’s vocalizer edged over the words, as if the phrasing was a cliff Pharma might fall off of at any moment. “What about the Pet? Won’t you want help carrying him?”

Oh, dear. Kaon exvented, a hot breath against Pharma’s face, and  _ squeezed,  _ the hand that he still held coming close to crumpling. “Now, now,” he said - chiding and menacing all at once. “You wouldn’t be trying to trick me into revealing the base’s location, now, would you, my dear Pharma?”

“No!” Pharma gasped. His field was that perfect green color again, bright and beautiful as his fingers flexed against Kaon’s palm. “I - I would never even  _ think _ \- Kaon, please, I need my hands, I can’t work without them…”

“Shhh,” Kaon crooned, leaning close to Pharma’s audial. “Don’t worry, little Autobot. Your hands are safe in mine.”

Pharma’s systems made a series of alarmed, confused sounds, so faint that an average mech likely wouldn’t have heard them. Internal protocols were flipping on somewhere deep inside the jet: fight or flight - or frag.

Kaon couldn’t believe how badly he wanted it to be  _ frag. _

He flicked the switches, shutting off Pharma’s brilliant optics and disabling his positioning systems. Pharma, now more blind than Kaon, stumbled forward, clutching at Kaon’s chestplates in an attempt to orient himself. It was -  _ nice,  _ holding him like this. Having an actual Cybertronian close to him. He loved his darling Pet - truly he did - but he missed his person-form, the form with hands he could hold and a mouth he could kiss.

But that was gone now. He’d never see that version of his love again. And if he didn’t hurry, he might not have the one version he could keep much longer, either.

“Don’t move,” Kaon said, letting Pharma go. “I’ll be back for you.”

He released Pharma’s hand, finally, and retreated, leaving Pharma alone in the snow. He heard Pharma stumble forward, visual map lighting up an image of Pharma’s hand reaching out for him to grab him back. 

_ Soon. _

The transport wasn’t far from their location, though Kaon would be damned if he told Pharma so. The DJD had worked hard to hide their movements from the Autobots at Delphi, and even if he’d been reckless to summon Pharma in the first place, Kaon wasn’t getting a black mark on his record for endangering the entire DJD base. Tarn would have his head if he found out. 

Kaon scooped up the Pet, carrying him tenderly to the transport door. It was hidden by a pile of snow, looking just like any other drift. Kaon ducked into the entrance, laying the Pet on his soft, warm pet bed in the corner. “Here you go, sweet,” he murmured, petting him. “You’re a good boy. You’re going to be alright.”

The Pet whined and nuzzled Kaon’s hand before sagging into the bed, closing his eyes.

Kaon watched him for a few moments longer, feeling his field, the pulse of his spark. As ever, he searched for some sign of intelligence: some flicker of indication that his lover was still in there somewhere, secreted away in the deep parts of his altmode’s mind.

He felt only trust, and love, and pain. Nothing more.

Kaon thought of Pharma curled against his chest, reaching out for him, glowing from his praise, and felt the first stirrings of an ache he knew he would never fully satisfy.

He vented, rose sharply to his feet, and exited the transport to collect the medic. He’d let Pharma finish the necessary surgery, and then, while the Pet slept… 

Maybe Pharma was worth having, after all.


	3. Such Softness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaon takes Pharma back to base, and Tarn is NOT pleased to find them there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOO NEW CHAPTER NEW CHAPTER. And I'm just barely posting it in time, too.
> 
> Content warnings for violence, mentions of socketfucking/skullfucking, mentions of medical kink, domestication, Tarn's Voice, Kaon's creepy idea of flirting, and some mildish torture. Please do not hesitate to let me know if something else needs to be added.
> 
> Had a somewhat significant plot change while working on this story over the weekend, and I'm admittedly a little nervous to see how it's received. That particular twist will pop up in next week's chapter. I hope you'll stick with me, and thank you to my amazing reviewers, who have left me the nicest, most detailed comments <3 I appreciate you more than I can say! Thanks for coming on this wild journey with me.

Surrounded by darkness and the howling of the bitter wind, Pharma waited. His wings trembled as ice began to form in hard crystals upon them, no matter how many times Pharma tried to shake them off. His processor helpfully offered up a few memory files of the frozen, graying husks of miners and medics who had fallen prey to Messatine’s hungry landscape. _This could be you soon,_ he told himself, shuddering. _First your wings will freeze in place. Then your joints will lock up. Your systems will shut down one by one to protect you, until your neural net closes down._   _Only the barest life support will remain online, and even then, only until your nanites freeze and the ice reaches your internals… eventually, those, too, will fail you. And then where will you be?_

Pharma imagined himself buried in snow, only the tip of a wing peeking through to mark where he had fallen, and shuddered.

Kaon was coming back. Kaon _had_ to come back. The Pet might not heal properly without his help, and Kaon had to know that.

Kaon wouldn’t leave him out here to die… would he?

The wind cried mournfully around him, and Pharma tried to block it out, filtering the sounds around him for the telltale crunch of Kaon’s footsteps instead. Maybe if he heard the whines of the Pet, or Kaon tracking through the snow - maybe then he would feel more certain of his grounding here, more sure that Kaon wasn’t abandoning him to die.

Then again, Kaon had been _much_ friendlier today than he’d ever been before…

Pharma turned Kaon’s words over in his processor. He’d called Pharma _darling_ and _my dear_ at the end - as if he’d been speaking to his Pet. Not that that was a _comforting_ thought, really. Even with his optics turned off, the image of that hand curled up inside the Pet’s chest cavity was burned into Pharma’s mind: undeniable proof of what the Pet had been once, before Kaon got to him.

It was _not_ good to be called the same sweet names as that pathetic creature. Even if it meant Kaon’s opinion of him had changed, Pharma was now quite certain he wanted nothing to do with Kaon’s affection. He’d take his loathing and his silence, thank you very much, and he’d be grateful for it.

Unless, of course, that same loathing caused him to abandon Pharma here in the snow...

Suddenly Pharma’s world spun as he was swept right off the ground. He gasped as he was pressed against a hot chassis, one arm hooking under his knee joints and the other snaking around his waist. Pharma groped blindly for his rescuer, clinging to his neck: feeling the telltale whirl of a turbine, the sharp points that flared from the back of Kaon’s helm. _Oh, thank Primus._

“Took you long enough,” he said, relaxing despite himself. He still wasn’t fully settled - he felt shaky and unstable in Kaon’s grip, and his right hand hadn’t managed to slip past the coils on Kaon’s shoulders. He groped through cold air for a handhold - and found Kaon’s face instead, one finger catching on an empty socket.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, startled, yanking his hand back - but Kaon followed after him, leaning _into_ the touch. Nuzzling Pharma’s hand. Pharma had all of three seconds to feel alarmed before his fingers slipped back to the socket, a lower optic lid twitching beneath his touch. Oh, that was a surprise - those lids still present, still functional. Despite himself, Pharma paused and let his fingertips run over it, testing it.   _How strange. I’d have removed them, if I performed this surgery… whoever did this had no idea what they were doing._

He could reach into the socket if he wished. He could feel the innermost workings if he wanted to , alive and sparking with raw electricity: not merely a model, the _actual thing._ And damn if that didn’t fully pique his interest. He traced upwards, following the socket’s curve. _Perhaps the upper lid is still there. I wonder if it still moves, too. If only I could see..._

“Pharma?” Kaon’s vocalizer echoed with curiosity, even as he pressed insistently into Pharma’s palm. “What are you doing?”

Pharma vented and withdrew, the offending hand pulling close to his chest. Primus, what _was_ he doing? Regardless of Kaon’s urging, it would be far too easy to offend, to hurt him - to do something forbidden.

Far too easy to become so fascinated he couldn’t stop...

“I - you started it!” Pharma snapped, hating how his vocalizer cracked and skipped over the words. “I didn’t mean to touch you, I just wasn’t expecting you to have… to have lids still. And you _leaned into it!”_

“Why didn’t you think I’d have lids?” Kaon asked. He shifted his grip a little, dragging Pharma closer, his frame throwing off a delicious heat Pharma couldn’t help but snuggle into. “I did have optics, once. A very long time ago.”

Pharma clutched at Kaon’s shoulders, struggling not to squirm as Kaon’s hand drifted uncomfortably close to his aft. “I wouldn’t have left them there if it had been _my_ choice,” he said, with all the haughty arrogance he was famed for. “They could malfunction, gather rust, collect mites - all kinds of awful things.”

“So you were exploring my socket… for mites?” Kaon sounded amused, and Pharma wished oh so much that he could slap the mech right across his smug little face.

“If you _must_ know,” he said, faceplates heating, “I was… curious. That they still moved. I’ve seen plenty of working models of the inner optic, but never on a living mech. I thought… I…”

“Professional interest?” Kaon finished for him. He began to walk, his fingers curving around Pharma’s side, holding him close and steady. “Interesting. It felt distinctly un-clinical in the moment, but I’ll take your word for it.”

Pharma’s face nearly burst into flames, the metal superheating as humiliation coursed through him. “How _dare_ you even _think -!_ ”

Kaon actually laughed aloud this time, a static-lined chuckle that began somewhere at his core and bubbled up through his mouth, the coils echoing the tenor of his laughter with a hollow hiss. “Please, Doctor. There’s no need for theatrics. Your secret medical kink is safe with me.”  

“It’s not - _ugh_ ,” Pharma growled, dropping off before he could finish. It absolutely _was_ on his list of kinks, and he knew it. And worse, Kaon knew it now, too: denying it at this close of range wouldn’t do anything to save Pharma. His field was pressed closely to Kaon’s, jolting with every step. Pharma had given himself away in both action and emotion, and there was no taking it back now.

“Oh, don’t be like that, doctor,” Kaon said, laughing. “You needn’t be embarrassed. We all have our own particular pleasures we like to indulge in.” He paused, a hot vent ghosting over Pharma’s mouth. “Normally I reserve socketplay for at _least_ second or third date, but I suppose I can make an exception.”

Pharma almost - _almost_ \- let Kaon go, jolting against the chair’s grip despite himself. “You let other mechs frag the sockets?!” he cried. He could have gone his entire life without knowing that. Why, the notion was unthinkable - grotesque, awful, filthy -

Kaon _tsked,_ shifting his grip to drag Pharma close again. “ _Some_ mechs. Not all. It’s an exercise in trust. It can be… unpleasant, if things go wrong.”

“ _Shocking,_ ” Pharma snapped, defensive and irritated. His frame was throwing off a full-body flush now, humiliation coursing through his lines.

Kaon laughed again. “There’s that, too.”

Ugh. Pharma had definitely _not_ intended that pun. He’d have rolled his optics if they were still turned on. “Fluids in your cranium could destroy all kinds of important functional equipment,” Pharma said. “Not to mention the potential danger to the brain module if it were to become exposed to said fluids.”

“Worrying about my health, Pharma? How _thoughtful_.” Kaon’s fingers squeezed against the struts in Pharma’s knee joints, making Pharma jump.

Pharma gritted his dentae. He couldn’t care less about Kaon’s health and wellbeing, but… some part of his medical mind was curious. Could he actually see Kaon’s brain module running if he looked far enough into the sockets? Observe the deepest inner workings of the optic in a patient that was still alive?

Pharma hated to admit it, but the notion was just that little bit too enticing to ignore. Especially now that he’d had a taste of what he might see.

“You ought to let me look at them,” he said. Kaon’s rotor fans kicked up, the slight prickling heat of the coils warming Pharma’s cold digits. “If you plan to let mechs get their fluids in there, you’ll need regular maintenance to avoid damage.”

“Whatever the _doctor_ orders.” Kaon laid a particular emphasis on his title, like he was tasting it, or mocking it, or both. “I do clean them out of course, after.”

“I would certainly hope so.”

“Helex likes to get his glossa in there,” Kaon continued, as though this horrifying revelation was perfectly normal. “It’s _such_ a pain to clean them after. So much messy oral lubricant. It’s almost worse than transfluid. You don’t happen to have a solution, do you?”

“Have you considered _not letting him lick the sockets?_ ” Pharma said, before he could think better of it.

“Oh, darling, don’t try to kinkshame me,” Kaon chuckled. “I didn’t shame you for yours, now, did I?”

“I… suppose not…” Pharma’s tanks churned dizzily as his processor conjured an unwanted image: Helex with Kaon gripped in his large hands, his glossa slithering in between the two dark holes, leaving trails of lubricant behind…

Disgusting. As interested as he was in seeing how much of the inner workings of a living helm he could view via Kaon’s empty sockets, he didn’t want to be _uncouth_ about it.

At least, he didn’t _think_ he did.

Time to stop that particular train of thought dead in its tracks. “How far are we from - ”

The wind stopped, and warmth enveloped Pharma. “Here,” Kaon said. He set Pharma down onto his own feet. _Oh, thank Primus._ Pharma took a subtle step back, feeling the familiar tread of the transport to the DJD base, the whir of doors closing, the lurch as it began its journey. Its range extended farther than he’d guessed it did. He wondered if they’d managed to make it encircle the entire Primus-forsaken planet.

Kaon’s pedes clicked away, a _thunk_ sounding a few moments later. “Hello, Pet,” he murmured, presumably to Pharma’s hapless patient. “How are you feeling?”

The turbofox whined, but made no further sounds. Pharma wished he could see, could use his scanner to ensure the Pet was fully stabilized…  but he wouldn’t be granted his sight back until they reached the base, and he wouldn’t get his GPS back until they’d returned to the drop point. “If he’s hungry, give him some of the medical grade in my kit,” Pharma said, leaning into the wall. He was grateful for its support, but its metal was colder than he would have liked. He thought of Kaon, warm and humming against his frame, and flinched. “That should help him remain stable, at least until I can operate on him.”

“Thank you.” Kaon’s voice was soft, distant, the staticky hiss of his coils a pulse blessedly far off from Pharma. “He looks better. Do you think he’ll survive?”

Pharma wondered what would happen if he told Kaon _no_ \- if he told him the truth, which was, _probably, but hard to say yet._

Probably nothing he wanted to experience.

“Yes,” Pharma said instead, leaning hard against the wall of the transport car. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

The lie rolled off his tongue so easily. Kaon even seemed to believe him, which was an odd turn. Pharma wasn’t a religious type, but he offered up a silent prayer that the lie would become truth.

He couldn’t afford to be wrong.

 

* * *

 

Pharma half-expected to be met by the full cadre of DJD operatives when they arrived on base, but when his sight was returned to him, none of the other mechs were at hand. A wave of relief washed over Pharma. He didn’t want to see the rest of the crew, not when he was already so off-balance. The full force of the DJD was enough to break even _his_ meticulous medic’s composure.

Still, it was odd that none of them were at hand when a medical emergency was in progress...

Kaon appeared in front of him, wearing a grim expression. He held up his fingers before Pharma’s face and _snapped_. Pharma jerked back from the gesture with a yelp and a narrow glare. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing at the back of his helm. It felt itchy where Kaon had touched him, like Kaon’s touch had left some sort of staticky residue behind.

“Just making sure your optics were online,” Kaon said, letting his hand drop. “Everything seems to be in order.” He turned away and bent, scooping up the Pet from a mobile stretcher with a tenderness Pharma had seldom seen in the assassin before today. “Come, darling,” Kaon whispered, planting a soft kiss on the Pet’s head. “The doctor is going to fix you up now, sweet. You’ll be fine. Good as new.”

Pharma shuddered, grateful Kaon’s back was turned to him just then. Of course the Pet wouldn’t be good as new - he wouldn’t be _himself,_ wouldn’t be fully Cybertronian. He would still be trapped in the body of a mindless beast, affectionately cuddling the very mech who was his captor. _They did not give him mercy. They gave him a lifetime of torment. And you’re only making it worse for him, prolonging it._

_I wonder what he did to deserve such a fate._

Pharma flicked his wings. He couldn’t afford to pity the little monster. It was the Pet or Pharma, and Pharma had killed mechs he was far closer to to save his own frame.

_Sorry, old Vos. You were a killer too, once. Maybe this is what you deserve._

Kaon started down the corridor that led to the medical suite, and Pharma followed close behind, clearing random sparks of stray energy from his vision as they walked. The base was unsettlingly quiet. When Pharma visited, he usually encountered the entire Division at some point: Helex sitting on a big couch, eating; Tesarus lurching along behind him, revving up the saws that made up his chassis; Vos skittering along the ceiling, following Pharma with a hiss and bright orange eyes. He was half-convinced they did this just to spite him, to remind him he didn’t belong and that at any moment they could kill him.

Their stark absence at this stage only confirmed the theory. He was beginning to suspect Kaon hadn’t commed anyone else to let them know what had happened, or that he was bringing Pharma along - a suspicion that sent an anxious chill through his lines. If they found Pharma here without express permission…

Well, Pharma didn’t know for certain what they would do or what they would assume, but he was certain it would be unpleasant.

“You didn’t happen to call the b- ” Pharma started - stopping dead when Kaon suddenly froze and held up a hand to silence him. His coils spit static in a frantic pattern, sparks hitting the air with a frightened _hiss._

_::Hide::_ Kaon ordered over comm. _::Now!::_

Slag. He’d been right. Kaon hadn’t told anyone, and now someone was coming, and whoever that someone was would undoubtedly be furious to find Pharma here without permission, even if he was with Kaon, even if he was saving the life of one of their own…

Unless the Pet wasn’t one of theirs. Unless the Pet had done something so vile to the rest of the crew that they considered him worth little more than an animal.

Pharma jolted into motion before he could finish the thought. He ducked out of the main corridor and behind a bank of communications arrays, curling into as small a ball as he could manage, dragging his field in close. _If_ he was correct - _if_ the Pet was being punished for some unknown crime, and Kaon’s request for help had been out of line with Tarn’s own rules - then both of them would suffer.

Pharma wasn’t about to die for some mass-murdering monster.

It was then that he heard the slow, heavy, familiar tread of Tarn’s pedes making their way up the corridor. They stopped when they reached Kaon, a small, curious sound escaping Tarn’s vocalizer. It could only come from the DJD commander; his voice was so unique as to be instantly recognizable to Pharma no matter how small the sound.

_Wonderful._ The leader himself, the head sadist, the monster-in-chief of this motley crew. Pharma curled more tightly into himself as his processor screamed and screamed.

“Kaon,” Tarn rumbled. “I wasn’t expecting you back just yet. Did you finish your rounds already?”

“I…” Kaon’s field radiated anxiety, so high that Pharma could feel it even from where he sat. “Not quite. There was - an incident.”

“An incident,” Tarn repeated flatly. Pharma heard the Pet give a whine of pain. “You consider this… an incident?”

“He was hurt!” Kaon said, coils humming. “There was a cyberbear, and it attacked, and he was bleeding out - ”

“And?”

Kaon stuttered to a halt, voxcorder bleating an audible wince. “I… I couldn’t let him die, Tarn.”

“You most certainly _could_ have,” Tarn said. The Pet cried again, louder this time, and Pharma wondered what Tarn was doing to his patient to hurt it so much. “You seem very keen to forget what that _thing_ did to us.”

Pharma swallowed against the roiling terror in his tanks, overriding the urge to purge. He’d been right. The Pet had done something to the DJD and he was being punished with domestication, and somehow a mission Pharma had thought might actually win him some favor with the DJD had now quite possibly become a crime worthy of death.

_If I get out of this, I’m killing Kaon myself._

“I haven’t forgotten,” Kaon said. “But - he’s a _good_ boy now, isn’t he? He can’t hurt us like this. He’s _good._ ”

The way he said it, stubbornly, like doe-eyed newbuild, was so outside what Pharma knew of Kaon that he could hardly believe he was hearing the same mech. He couldn’t possibly believe what he’d said, and yet. And yet.

_He needs to cling to something,_ Pharma realized dully. _It’s all he has left._

“He’s _your_ Pet, Kaon, by your own admission and request,” Tarn snapped. “Primus knows why I let you domesticate and keep him, but risking your work for him is unacceptable.”

“But he’s _helped_ ,” Kaon insisted, vocalizer quivering. “He’s been so _good_ , he’s gone after traitors with us, he’s even caught a few that almost escaped while we were working on others - ”

“Yes - because he’s an _animal,_ ” Tarn said. He was beginning to sound like an exasperated teacher instead of an enraged mass-murderer, which was a vast improvement. “Kaon… sweetspark. You cannot put so much care and attention into a simple beast. It’s not fair to the rest of us. The risks you take just to protect that _thing…”_

Tarn fell silent. The Pet made another noise, and Kaon’s coils hummed nervous sparks into the warmth of the DJD base’s air, his vents erratic and wild.

The silence dragged on for several long, brutal kliks - shattered by the Pet’s sudden, pained yelp.

“ _Kaon_ .” Tarn’s voice was flat again and very, _very_ angry. Pharma shuddered and cowered down, pressing his hand to his mouth to stifle a cry. “These welds are _not_ your work.”

“I - Tarn, please, I didn’t know what to do - ” Kaon’s vocalizer reset twice before the words escaped.

“ _Where is he?_ ” Tarn snarled; and Pharma nearly collapsed with terror, the rage of the DJD commander washing over him.

“It’s not his fault!” Kaon blurted out, almost sobbing. “Tarn - wait, please, he didn’t know I hadn’t told you, he didn’t _know -_ ”

Pharma vented hard and scrambled to his feet, wild panic running rampant through his spark. No, no, this was _not_ happening, he was _not_ about to die for the sake of Kaon’s stupid Pet. He braced himself for Tarn’s wrath, pressing himself against the bank of arrays as Tarn spun around the corner, his shadow touching Pharma first before his frame hulked into view...

Tarn turned his blazing red optics to Pharma’s blue, and Pharma almost gave up right there.

“Tarn,” he managed to choke out, nodding his head in greeting.

“Pharma,” Tarn said flatly, folding huge arms over his broad purple chest. Fury radiated from him in waves, hitting Pharma’s field like fire. “I thought the parameters of our arrangement were _exquisitely_ clear - yet here you are, without permission, on a duty that does not require your care. _How_ can that be, Doctor?”

Pharma’s spark hiccuped, already cowering in fear of that awful Voice. He had to _do_ something, if only to save his own spark. Maybe Kaon’s, too, if Tarn’s angry field was anything to go by.

Pharma glanced at Kaon, lurking behind Tarn with the Pet still clutched in his arms. Pharma gestured to the duo, struggling to project calm. “There were injuries to tend to,” he said, “And I am first and foremost a medic. I came to do my duty, nothing more. I didn’t realize you hadn’t been informed.”

This was the wrong thing to say, for Tarn’s optics flared brilliant crimson behind his purple mask as he turned back to his wayward officer. “ **_Kaon_ ** ,” he said, his voice taking on a horrible, painful note. “When last I looked, the good doctor was not meant to be here for several days. And yet, you’ve brought him here - **unattended** \- **_without warning_ ** **-** **_and without_ ** **_explicit permission_ ** **_-_ ** **_despite what all protocol states._ ** ” The last words were spoken in the Voice again, that terrible, thunderous roll that no mech who heard it could escape. “ **_Explain yourself._ **”

Kaon collapsed as the Voice lashed out at him, falling to his knees. The Pet hit the floor with a loud clang, a high bark escaping it before it fell silent, venting heavily. Pharma was already falling before he realized he was collapsing too, shuddering, his spark _squeezing_ in its casing. _No, no, Primus please no, please don’t, NO -_

“I’m sorry!” Kaon sobbed, lifting his helm. “What was I supposed to do? He was going to _die,_ Tarn! I had to - ”

“ **_No you did not_ ** _,_ ” Tarn snarled. Pharma arched up off the floor as his spark stuttered again, siphoning down, energy draining and then filling back up in an excruciating whirl. Pharma cried out, his fingers gouging the metal floor, tearing slivers into the steel as he tried to stabilize himself. “If he dies, he dies. You _know_ this. Yet you risked the **_security of our base_ ** , our **_entire operation_ ** here, **_for an animal_ ** _!_ ”

Tarn’s shadow loomed long, dwarfing the smaller red mech. Pharma lifted his head, watching as Kaon seemed to shrink before his commander, coils sparking wildly in terror. “I offlined Pharma’s optics and GPS before coming here,” he said, struggling to sit up. “I’m not an _idiot,_ I would never - ”

“ **_And what of the Autobots at the base?_ ** ” Tarn’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. Pharma felt the aftershocks of agony, a sharp pain flaring across his spark chamber - but it was Kaon who took the full brunt, falling onto his back with a quavering cry. His spark twisted in a sickening display behind his rotor, flaring bright and then fading almost to oblivion before shining with searing white light. “ **_What of the mechs who now wonder where Pharma is? What of the empty base Pharma walked into? What of the coordinates you must have sent to Pharma for him to find you?_ **”

Kaon wheezed, blackish tears running from his empty sockets. _He has ducts to cry still,_ Pharma thought, distantly, clutching at the floor as torturous pain lanced through him. It wasn’t the thing to focus on at the moment, but it was all he could use to keep himself grounded. “Tarn, please, I’m so sorry, I just wanted my Pet to be safe, I just wanted to save him, _please!!_ ”

Tarn snarled, his fusion cannon thrumming to life at his side. Primus, he was actually going to kill Kaon - he was going to murder his own man right before Pharma’s optics, for trying to save someone he loved, for doing a _good thing_ for once in his horrible life…

“ _Tarn, wait!_ ” Pharma shouted, hurling himself to his feet and grabbing Tarn’s arm with both hands.

Tarn and Kaon both froze, helms snapping in his direction. The weight of their gazes bore down upon him, his processor shrieking in terror. _What have you done? What have you done?! You should have let him die… he deserves to die._

“Tarn… there’s no need to cause such a fuss,” Pharma said. He was shaking, barely able to hold himself up, but he attempted his coyest expression anyway, hooded optics looking up into Tarn’s glowering mask. He ran quivering fingers over Tarn’s forearm, tracing the humming cannon with a teasing little stroke. “After all, isn’t this essentially what you retained me for? You wanted my medical expertise at your beck and call, and you have it. If your men were ever injured - if they were hurt while patrolling - wouldn’t you expect me to drop everything and come to their aid, regardless of the rules of engagement - regardless of our schedules and agreed-upon parameters?”

Tarn’s eyes narrowed behind his mask - but the fusion cannon powered down, heat bleeding from it slowly. “The Pet is not one of my men,” he said.

_Well, not anymore,_ Pharma thought. “Perhaps not,” he agreed. He had to _think._ He had to be quick, or Tarn would kill him too. “But the Pet is one of your most iconic symbols. You wouldn’t want to lose that, would you?”

Tarn paused. His field lit with surprise, shifting into curiosity and interest. “Iconic?”

“Oh, yes. You’ll forgive me for saying so, I hope, but everyone fears the pet sparkeater,” Pharma said with a solemn nod. “It would be _such_ a pity to lose him.”

“Hmm.” The hum sounded through Pharma’s entire frame, all the way from his struts to his wingtips: a pleasurable sensation now, tender as a lover’s kiss. He was considering what Pharma said, which was more than Pharma had hoped for at the start. Pharma leaned into the performance, pressing his chest up against Tarn’s arm and offering him his most winning smile.

“And anyway,” he said, setting his chin on Tarn’s cannon, “I would _hope_ you’d be happy with my quick response to Kaon’s request for assistance. I did _so_ wish to please you.” He let the implication of that last phrase linger, all but batting his eyes up at the giant tank.

Kaon was still wheezing on the floor, his spark flickering unpleasantly in Pharma’s periphery - but his field felt… hopeful. Like maybe he would be safe. Like Pharma was going to save him.

_Why? Why are you saving him, when his death would serve you better - when_ **_you_ ** _could die for trying?_

Tarn glanced at Pharma’s hands, still encircled around his arm, and moved to stroke Pharma’s helm, a tender gesture that could herald harm or affection. “How… _kind_ of you to argue on the Pet’s behalf, and Kaon’s,” he said. He was calmer now, exuding an inquisitive air and the barest hint of arousal, his hand soothing small circles over Pharma’s crest. “I never expected to see such softness in you, Pharma.”

_Neither did I,_ Pharma thought, keeping his optics locked on Tarn. He couldn’t look at Kaon or the Pet just now, terrified that even a single glance might give him away. “Is it softness to do my job?” Pharma countered. “This is a medical emergency. What good is a doctor who won’t help a patient in need - _any_ patient in need?”

_Yes, Pharma. What good are you, as a medic who kills?_

Pharma swallowed down the swell of guilt, and forced another winning smile onto his face.

Tarn’s thumb caught Pharma’s lower lip, ghosting over it like the barest vent. “Why, doctor, it’s quite _inspiring_ to see you so fired up about your work,” he said, leaning in close. His optics moved to stare at Pharma’s mouth, a familiar hunger lighting there. “You rarely grant me glimpses of such passion.”

Images rose unbidden of his blue hands gripping those large tire treads, his vocalizer cracking around Tarn’s name. “Oh, Tarn, you _know_ that isn’t true,” Pharma said. The seductive little purr he added wasn’t entirely feigned, and he hated himself for it, tanks roiling with loathing. _Disgusting. You’re a monster, just as much as any of them. Look what you’ve become._

Tarn chuckled, leaning in and rubbing his mask against the side of Pharma’s helm. “You know very well what I meant.” He pulled back at last, helm tilted, folding his arms over his broad chest. Pharma hated himself even more for the swell of arousal that swept over him at the sight. “I wasn’t aware you could treat animals as well as Cybertronians. You are truly a gifted medic, Pharma.”

Kaon made a choked sound from his spot on the floor. _Tarn doesn’t know I know,_ Pharma realized. _Tarn wouldn’t_ **_want_ ** _me to know. And if he found out that Kaon told me…_

Pharma shrugged, folding his arms over his cockpit in an imitation of Tarn’s stance. “It’s not my particular speciality,” he said, “But I can’t sit by and do nothing. My… conscience… won’t allow it.”

Tarn smiled beneath the mask. Pharma could hear it in the way Tarn’s voice rolled over him, low and warm and setting his frame off-kilter. “Odd to hear you speaking of _conscience,_ Doctor,” he said, a ripple of humor in his field. “You kill so readily and so easily on my behalf. What does your _conscience_ think of that?”

Pharma ground his dentae, struggling not to flinch. “All the more reason to save lives where I can,” he said. He glanced at the Pet, lying very still on the floor. “Now, commander… may I get to work? The patient won’t wait forever.”

There was a long pause, heavy with indecision. The weight of the tension was smothering, like a stone crushing him, pushing him bit by bit into the ground.

Finally, Tarn exvented and waved a hand. “Carry on, doctor,” he said, turning with a dramatic flourish of his treads. He paused, glancing down at Kaon, who still lay prostrated at his feet. “And Kaon?”

Kaon made a small _kzzzzt_ of distress, audibly shuddering.

“ **_Don’t. Do. This. Ever. Again_ ** _._ ” Tarn’s Voice lashed out, whip-sharp, cracking in the air. Pharma gasped and collapsed to his knees, agony like nothing he’d ever felt before hurtling through every inch of his frame.

Kaon’s cry of absolute suffering was only to be expected.

Tarn made a sound, a huff of disgust, before turning and storming away, leaving both Kaon and Pharma collapsed on the floor.


	4. Our Little Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma must go to extreme lengths to save Kaon from death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GO Y'ALL. I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, so I hope you enjoy. Shit gets REAL.
> 
> Content Warnings: Dubious Consent/Unconscious Partner, Fuck or Die.

It took Pharma several kliks to recover the strength to stand. Even though he had not been Tarn’s intended target, the tank’s Voice had done serious damage, nearly sending him into temporary offline. A quick scan of his own vitals indicated he was recovering, albeit slowly; he hadn’t taken the full brunt of the attack, after all.

Kaon, on the other hand…

Pharma forced himself onto his knees, lifting his helm. Kaon laid on the floor a few meters away, and he was _spasming._ One moment, his red and gold frame lay still and dark upon the floor; the next, his back arched and his spark burned too hot and bright to be healthy, spitting fiery pink sparks into the air. Light burst out through his empty sockets, lightning coughing out his open mouth.

Then he went dark again, sagging, his spark fading into nothing but the tiniest of embers.

He wasn’t dead yet, but if Pharma didn’t help him, he soon would be.

Pharma scrambled over to Kaon, ignoring the Pet for now. The Pet’s temporary welds were still in place, and while it was whining from the same aftershocks Pharma was experiencing, it still wasn’t as bad off as Kaon by any stretch.

Pharma pulled himself alongside the red and gold mech, cupping his helm in his hands. “Kaon? Kaon, if you can hear me, nod once.”

Kaon arched again, screaming static, an electric shock shooting up Pharma’s hands and through his arms. His systems squealed and reset, and when his vision rebooted, he was lying across Kaon’s rotor, smoke hissing from beneath his plating.

Wonderful. Kaon couldn’t hear him, and touching him could lead to electrocution. This day just kept getting better and better.

Pharma pushed himself off, looking for the cause of this constant spark fading.  “What did he do to you?” the medic murmured; and for a moment, he almost pitied the mech below him.

“⍠⍔⍃⍺⍻   ⏁⏆⏅ ⏖⏣⏚⍱⍣⍢   ⑀⑄⏛,” came the reply.

Pharma swiveled to look at the speaker, his optics tracing up and up and up until his gaze met Vos’s, his orange optics glowing beast-like from the shadows of the ceiling. How long the mech had been there, Pharma couldn’t say; but long enough that he clearly knew what was happening.

“⍦⍤⍚⍛⎔   ⍼⏗⏇⍹⍜⍝ ⌜⌞⌅⌂   ⌬⌮⍅⍍⍋ ⍊⍕⍙⍘⍇⍆⍃,” said Vos, dropping with a _clack_ from the ceiling to the floor.

Pharma spared Vos a cursory sneer before returning to his patient, laying a hand over Kaon’s turbine. Kaon jolted, mouth opening, lightning firing out from his glossa and coils at the same time. “You know I can’t understand you,” Pharma snarled. “If you want to help, then help, but don’t chatter at me in that farce of an ancient tongue. It’s less than useless to me right now.”

Vos paused, still watching, optics bright and unblinking as his held tilted. “ _Kaon_ ,” he said, pointing at the mech.

“Yes?” Pharma reached for the clasps that held Kaon’s rotor in place. “I know who he is. Saying his name won’t save his life.”

Sharp fingers tapped at his shoulder, like painful little needles. “ _Pharma… look…_ ” said Vos, all but a hiss. Pharma looked up, startled out of his processor. How in the Pit had Vos moved that fast? He’d been halfway across the corridor a few seconds ago.

Vos held up his hands, open-faced, making sure that Pharma was watching him before proceeding. “ _Tarn… trip… sssssspark,_ ” he said, slowly, tasting each word with hesitance. He gestured to his chest plate, undoubtedly hiding his own spark. He tapped his chest plates again and snapped rhythmically. “ _Trip… offfff… onnn.”_

Pharma tilted his head, optics narrowing. “I know he can shut off sparks with a word if he likes,” he said. “ _Everyone_ knows that. This is decidedly not that. If you don’t have anything _useful_  to tell me - ”

Vos growled and muttered something under his breath. “ _Tarn… leave… voicccceee. Herrre._ ” He tapped his chest plate again. “ _On. Offffff._ ”

Pharma felt a cold chill run down his spinal struts. “I don’t - are you saying Tarn leaves a trace of his vocal energy _inside the spark_ to make it flicker?” His voice pitched high with incredulity. “How does he even _do_ that - ”

Vos lifted a single finger to his mask and hissed, “ _Shhhh._ _SILENT.”_

Pharma held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Well then, hurry _up_ ,” he snapped, glancing at Kaon. “I think he’s dying.”

Vos glanced at his fallen compatriot, and for a moment, Pharma thought he saw worry in the mech’s expression. He’d never seen Vos _emote_ before. “ _Must… expend spark… manual,_ ” Vos said. He knew that it wasn’t enough; a second later he snarled in frustration, climbing onto Pharma’s lap.

“Vos - what in the _Pit -_ ” But Vos shushed him again with a finger pressed to his lips.

“ _Do bond touch,_ ” Vos said, laying his palm against Pharma’s chestplate, over the hidden panels that protected his spark. He closed his hand into a fist and gestured lewdly, as if he were stroking a partner into overload.

“What the frag are you even - ” Pharma stopped, realization rolling over him in a wave. “The spark has to be overloaded to clear the energy Tarn leaves?”

Vos nodded emphatically, pointing. “ _Do bond touch,_ ” he repeated.

“No, _you_ do bond touch,” Pharma snapped. “I’m not overloading Kaon just because Tarn does. He’d probably prefer you do it anyway -”

Vos hissed and stabbed his fingers into Pharma’s cheeks, digging the cold little needle-claws of his hands deep into Pharma’s faceplate. Pharma yelped in pain, flinching as Vos’ grip tightened. “ _Can’t,”_ Vos spat. “ _Tarn… not… agree.”_

“Tarn won’t _allow_ you to?” Pharma guessed. Vos nodded, releasing his grip. Pharma’s faceplates stung where Vos had stabbed him, energon welling at the entrance of each wound. “You’re saying Tarn deliberately punishes like this, with this energy tripping thing he does, and then when he feels like you’ve suffered enough, he overloads you - but _only_ he can do it?”

Vos nodded again. He gestured to Kaon’s body, still wracked with spasms. “ _Bad?_ ” he asked.

“Yes, it’s very bad,” Pharma said. “Does… does it normally look like this when Tarn does this spark tripping thing?”

Vos shook his head, wearing the same solemn expression. “ _Bad,_ ” he repeated. That seemed to expend his energy for speaking Neocybex, because the next second he was chattering again in Primal Vernacular. “⌓⌅⌄⍄⍍   ⍋⌴⍡⍠⍮ ⍫⍬⍵⏀⏆ ⎾⎽⎔⏙⏕⏣⏥⏦⑅⑃.”

“You _know_ I can’t - ” Pharma pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to think. He’d never been a position where he’d had to… how should he say it… _professionally_ overload a patient. There were certain situations where it was recommended - testing new interface arrays, for instance, or during check-ups on valves and spikes and hardlines - but it was always done via diagnostic machine, with the patient locked in a secured room so they could at least have some privacy while the process played out in purely medical detail for the medic.  

There were _no_ occasions where a mech might need a doctor to overload them via spark. It was the single most intimate form of interface, and even basic spark examinations were considered highly invasive. Pharma had never even attempted a spark examination on a live mech before.

And now if he wanted to save Kaon, he was going to have to touch his spark, his very essence. Intimate. Personal. Open.

“Primus,” Pharma growled, staring down at Kaon’s jolting frame. “You’d better appreciate me after this is over.”

He returned to Kaon’s turbine, slowly unhooking the latches that held it in place. “I’m going to start the process now,” Pharma said. “If you intend to stand by and wa-”

He looked up, but Vos had disappeared, as if he had never been there. Plausible deniability, perhaps; he didn’t want Tarn to know he’d been the one to tell Pharma what to do. Pharma glowered at the empty space where the nasty little mech had been, but another jolt of Kaon’s frame, coupled with an agonized gurgling, forced him back to reality.

He had a patient to save.

Shivering, he pulled Kaon’s turbine open with reverent hands. Even when he and Ratchet had been together, they’d never engaged in spark play; it had felt too committal for Ratchet’s comfort. There’d been no one who came after who Pharma had wanted to open his spark to, either. He’d engaged in every other kind of interface under the sun, but never this. This was _far_ from the first time that Pharma would have wished for, but even so, it deserved some modicum of respect.

Pharma could have laughed at himself, if he didn’t feel like crying. _Since when did you become such a romantic?_

Kaon’s spark gave off an unhealthy light within its casing. Now that he was close, Pharma could actually _see_ a coiling swirl of energy squeezing within the interior of the spark, causing it to trip. One second it flared too bright and sharp and blinding; the next it went nearly dark, the casing dulling to a sad frosted gray, only an ember of spark light left behind before it flared again.

That awful swirl was built right out of Kaon’s own spark energy. Tarn’s voice had twisted it into an ugly knot, one that shuddered with each flare-up it created. Yes. Vos was right. An overload would untangle that knot and send it bursting out of Kaon’s frame, removing it completely. There might have been another way, but not as quick and dirty as this. Not that Pharma could complete in time to prevent Kaon from dying.

Biting down on his lip, Pharma popped Kaon’s spark casing open and closed his hand around Kaon’s spark.

Kaon was suddenly awake and alive again, jolting beneath Pharma’s hand. His systems kicked into high gear with a series of painful clicks, his spark trembling wildly in Pharma’s grip. “Wh - P-Pharma?”

“Easy,” Pharma murmured, laying his other hand against Kaon’s cheek. “Easy, Kaon. Let me help you.”

Kaon leaned into Pharma’s hand, hard, pressing his face into Pharma’s grip. He was shaking violently, his spark still dimming and bursting even as Pharma worked at it, curving his palm around the brilliant, hot light that formed Kaon’s center. Pharma could see right into Kaon’s right socket now, all the little parts that sat behind the optic exposed. It was… _fascinating._ Pharma leaned in, watching as Kaon’s sockets actually leapt wide at his touch. The ridges that remained, left behind from whatever operation had removed Kaon’s eyes, fluttered and moved with the rest of his faceplates, creating expressions even without optics.

Pharma gripped the spark tighter, squeezing and then easing his hold. It was still flickering, but growing brighter by the second, lighting up in his hand. Kaon shuddered, legs sliding apart, static dancing over his red and gold frame. His mouth fell open, and a tiny sound of pleasure escaped him, his helm thunking back onto the floor as he arched into Pharma’s touch. “Pharma,” he stuttered, grabbing for Pharma’s arm. “B-be careful - the coils - ”

“I’ll mind them,” Pharma said, hardly casting them a glance. He could see a cable that had once connected to an optic, torn at the ends. So not an operation - a _tearing._ Someone had ripped Kaon’s optics out. That explained the fluid ducts that remained, the lids, the strange, messy interior of the socket.  Every time Kaon’s spark jumped, light burst from the dead cable that had once connected to his optic, tiny sparkles within the dark void. It was like seeing little stars blink into and out of existence, ephemeral and precious. Pharma realized he was recording the image for later, unconsciously filing it away so he could view it again and again: those tiny little flares of light, licking at Kaon’s innermost workings, lighting him up for Pharma’s pleasure.

Kaon moaned, groping for Pharma’s hand on his cheek. He pressed a kiss to Pharma’s palm, hot and wet and open-mouthed, glossa tracing the seams of Pharma’s hand. _No, don’t do that, this isn’t that kind of play, we aren’t doing this for fun -_ but Pharma felt heat wash over him, a wave of excitement sending interface protocols flickering to life.

_No. No, no, no, no!_ Pharma tried to dismiss them, tearing his gaze away from Kaon’s socket. The spark he held was looking much healthier now, bright and beautiful, brighter than any spark Pharma had ever seen. The chair’s electricity must have lent it a special intensity. He squeezed, stroking faster, up-down up-down, twisting his hand so no spot was missed -

“Pharma,” Kaon panted, rocking superheated pelvic plates up against Pharma’s panel. Pharma jumped, realizing he’d crawled on top of Kaon somehow, that he was too close and running too warm to be anything but turned on. Kaon wrapped his free arm around Pharma’s back, pulling him down close to him, their plating meeting with a _crash._ “ _Ah -_ doctor -!”

Ohh, it was nice to hear his title spoken like that: a cry, a gasp, pleasure infused in every syllable. _Doctor, you’re amazing, doctor you’re so good at this, doctor you’re the best I’ve ever -_

Before Pharma was even aware it was happening, his chest plates snapped open, and his spark casing fell away to expose his light to Kaon’s. Pharma jerked, startled, horrified as he realized what was happening, trying frantically to cut off the connection -

Too late.

Suddenly his mind, his frame, his every strut and line was  _full_ of Kaon: his fear and pain and pleasure lighting him up, his every thought exposed. He was thinking about how warm Pharma was, how bright his field was, how soft his touch was - and then he too realized what was happening as Pharma’s consciousness flooded his.

They were _bonding._

Pharma tried one last time to wrench himself away, but Kaon made a sound, somewhere between a snarl and a mournful howl, and dragged Pharma back, catching his chin and pulling him up to kiss him. Pharma’s processor swam dizzily as his emotions became Kaon’s, indistinguishable and permanent: he felt the agony of his own terror and the overwhelming _need_ in Kaon, begging for intimacy, begging for closeness, not caring who it was with...

Then Kaon arched up off the floor for the last time, coils firing off into the ceiling as an overload wracked his whole frame. Light burst from those empty sockets: golden and beautiful, like a miniature lightning storm. A wave of electricity washed over Pharma, licking at his frame, leaving agonizing flares behind. His plating pitted and hissed as lightning danced over him, driving his temperature up and up, dragging him up and over into an overload he didn’t want and had never intended to have. He shuddered and cried out, sobbing as his spark burst in his chest, intermingling with Kaon’s. He felt the link click into place, permanent and immutable; and then he collapsed, panting, as both sparks flared like a supernova and then slowly, sweetly returned to an even glow: Kaon’s pulsing at the proper interval and brightness, the last twitch of Tarn’s voice driven out.

Pharma slammed a fist against Kaon’s chest, angry tears leaking from his optics. “Why didn’t you let me stop it?!” he shouted, lifting his helm. Kaon was still venting hard, sockets half-shuttered, plating burning up beneath the medic. “You _hate me!_ You didn’t want this any more than I did - how could you - why would you - ”

Kaon’s lids slid back, exposing perfect darkness, empty of those little starlight sparkles that had so entranced Pharma. Kaon reached up and pressed his hand to Pharma’s face, stroking his cheek, the intimate curves and divots of his helm. “It… felt right,” he said. “Being with you. Feeling you. Didn’t it feel that way to you?”

“I - of _course,_ it’s a spark-bonding, that’s part of the _process -_ ” Pharma wrenched his face away from Kaon’s grip, scrambling off of his lap. He began to pace, panic setting in, rushing through his lines like prickles of ice. “Primus, I can’t - we have to break it, we have to stop it, we can’t _possibly_ keep a bond like this - ”

“Pharma.” Kaon’s vocalizer reset, echoing with static. “Come here.”

“No!” Pharma whirled on Kaon, watching as the mech propped himself up on his arm joints. “No, absolutely _not._ We need to break this.”

Kaon frowned, sitting up fully. “Why?” he asked.

Pharma laughed, an edge of hysteria to his tone. “Why?” he repeated, almost choking on the word. “ _Why?_ You can’t be serious. We’re _enemies._ We don’t even work for the same side - ”

“We work for Tarn,” Kaon said. He flinched at Tarn’s name, rubbing at his still-open spark at the designation. “And you saved me. Me _and_ the Pet.”

“And that means… what? That we should be bondmates?” Pharma pressed a hand to his mouth, shaking violently. “We barely even know each other. We don’t even _like_ each other.”

Kaon grinned. “I like you just fine,” he said.

“ _Now_ you do!” Pharma snapped. “But you didn’t this morning!”

“And?” Kaon attempted to get to his feet and fell back, struts giving out before he could stand. “What’s your point?”

“Primus in the _Pit._ ” Pharma sank down to the floor. He could _feel_ Kaon through every inch of him, Kaon’s excitement and pleasure, the acceptance he felt of this bizarre development, his confusion at Pharma’s resistance. Confusion and - oh, he had the nerve to be _hurt!_ “Don’t you guilt me into this,” Pharma snapped.

Kaon tilted his head, and even though he didn’t need to, he blinked. “You don’t feel guilty because of how _I_ feel,” he said. “You feel guilty because you think it’s wrong to bond with me, and because you _liked_ it.”

“No I didn’t!” Pharma shouted. He hadn’t, had he? He hadn’t wanted this, he didn’t like it now that it had happened… did he?

He felt the warmth of Kaon’s spark beating pleasantly through every part of him, a constant companion, warm and comforting and constant…

And in a fit of rage he cut him off, closing the connection with a snarl.

“ _No!_ ” Kaon’s cry of fury outdid Pharma’s own as Pharma was cut off from him: their emotions bleeding slowly away into the faintest trickle, a painful chill replacing the comfort of the other’s sparkbeat in their frames. “Give it _back -_ “

“If you aren’t willing to break the bond, this is the only choice I have,” Pharma said coldly. “I’m not living with your every single thought and feeling following me wherever I go - ”

Somehow Kaon found the strength to stand, bracing himself against the wall behind him. “ _Come. Here,_ ” he snarled. He was bright and terrifying, coils sparking his deadly rage into the air. Pharma didn’t need their bond to feel the flood of anger in his field. “ _Open it back up. Now._ ”

Pharma clambered to his feet, ready to fight Kaon if he had to. “No,” he said. “You can’t make me do this. You can’t _force_ me to be your sparkmate.”

“ _You_ forced it on _me_ ,” Kaon spat. “And now you want to take it _away?!_ Do you know how long I’ve waited for a bond - for someone willing to be that close with me? Tarn refused, and Helex didn’t want more than casual interface, and my Vos wouldn’t do it because of what it would have revealed - but _you_ -!”

“I was trying to save your life,” Pharma shouted. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or punch something. “I didn’t intend - ”

“I don’t _care_ what you intended,” Kaon snapped. “We are together now. You are _mine._ ”

That word, _mine_ , sparked bright and furious as it fell from Kaon’s vocalizer. A shudder ran through Pharma at the possessive grip he felt on his spark, even through the closed off bond. The force of Kaon’s conviction broke through even Pharma’s barriers.

Pharma drew in a shuddering vent. “And what about Tarn?” he asked quietly. “What do you think he would say if he learned of this… bond?”

Kaon’s coils stopped sparking, powering down with a whine. Whatever strength had allowed him to stand seemed to fade, leaving him sagging against the wall. “I… I don’t…”

“He would hate it,” Pharma said. “He would break it himself if he learned of it. He owns both of us, Kaon, more than either of us own each other. This - this… whatever is between us now… cannot be.”

Kaon worked his jaw, grinding his dentae with a sharp, metallic sound. “What if we just… never told him?” he said.

Pharma paused. “You want me to lie to Tarn _again_?”

Kaon gave a shaky laugh. “What’s one more lie on top of the others?” he said. “You’ve already lied to save me. Why not hide this, too?”

Pharma couldn’t believe he was even considering it - but he was. Primus knew he couldn’t break the bond without Kaon agreeing to it; and he imagined Tarn’s breaking of the bond would be far more painful than a mutually agreed-upon parting. He’d heard of what horrible methods could be used to break spark bonds from unwilling sparkmates; Tarn would undoubtedly use the worst of them to punish them both for this transgression.

“Fine,” Pharma ground out. “We’ll keep it a secret… for now. Until you come to your senses and realize how _stupid_ this is, and we break it ourselves.”

Kaon smiled. When he smiled like that he looked - almost innocent. Almost like he wasn’t one of the universe’s most famous murderers. “Our little secret,” he said. “I very much like the sound of that.”

_I don’t._ Pharma turned sharply on his heel and walked across the room to his medical kit, scooping it up from the floor. “I should… I should tend to the Pet,” he said. “He’s better off than you but he’s not well…”

Kaon’s field radiated sudden distress - at least, Pharma thought it was his field. It could be his emotions bleeding through their connection at this point. Kaon finally pushed himself from the wall, gathering his strength as he bent to lift the Pet up. Pharma could already tell he wouldn’t make it - he was too weak, still recovering from Tarn’s attack - still barely functional -

He was to Kaon’s side and helping him before he could think better of it.

Kaon looked up and offered him a smile, soft and pleased and displaying unnervingly sharp dentae. “Thank you, Pharma,” he said.

“Yes, well. Wouldn’t want the welds to tear,” Pharma said brusquely. “Let’s get him to the medical bay, and _quickly._ ”

And off they went, their steps clicking in time, unnervingly perfect in their combined rhythm.


	5. A Chasm that Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All his life, Kaon wanted a sparkmate. Now that he has one, he has no intention of being parted from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOFADOOFA, FAM. I had the craziest week last week, and I've FINALLY managed to get the time to polish and complete Chapter 5. I'm so sorry for the delay, all! This might mean I wind up pushing back Chapter 6 as well, but I'll try my best to get it done in time for Thursday :D
> 
> CW for abusive behavior, emotional manipulation & emotional abuse, robogore, and general possessive assholery on the part of Kaon.
> 
> I've treasured every single review y'all have left me, and I'm so glad you're all enjoying the fic so much! I hope this chapter pleases you as well :D

_ Doctor. Pharma. Sparkmate. Bonded. _

The words pounded a pulse as regular as the rotations of Kaon’s spark, echoing through his processor. Whether he repeated them to calm himself, or whether he meant to use them as battering rams against the cold wall Pharma had placed between them, Kaon couldn’t say. The rest of him was in chaos, crawling static wreaking havoc upon his field: a forbidden longing he’d spent centuries ignoring brought painfully to the fore.

He had a _sparkmate._ A bonded. A _beloved._ The very words made his whole frame tremble, excitement sending another burst of static along his plating. Someone finally belonged to him - to him _and only him._ His every thought, his every emotion, his every waking and dreaming moment were now shared things, intimacies passed like stolen kisses between his spark and Pharma’s. Kaon was dizzy with the promise of it: the intimacy, the understanding, the constant, never-wavering companionship. Kaon had craved this as long as he had understood the concept of a sparkbond, and now, _finally,_ it was his.

Or at least, it  _ had  _ been his, before Pharma had panicked and unceremoniously shut him out. Before  _ sparkmate  _ became  _ endless, aching void. _

Kaon steepled his fingers in front of his face, glowering into the space before him. His coils hissed an angry tune into the warmth of the operating suite, tracing Pharma’s frame. Kaon tracked the movements of his precious little wings, watching as they flicked off Kaon’s smothering field in a constant dance; moved to his beautiful hands, outlining the shapes of his fingers as they made deft work of the welds in the Pet’s side. He pressed his neural net for  _ more, more, more,  _ layering what images he received one over the other until every bit of kibble was imprinted clearly on his visual map. He could see now the sharp, patrician line of Pharma’s nose; the matching dual lines beneath his optics, jutting from his audial to his cheek; the crest of his helm, the dour twist of his mouth, the cabling at his throat.

Primus, he was lovely. Kaon had always known it to be so, but he had permitted petty jealousy to blind him to the fact. Whatever interest had arisen in him when he’d seen Pharma he’d done his best to crush, knowing that Pharma was  _ Tarn’s  _ toy.

But now… now, Pharma was his. Or at least, he would be - just as soon as Kaon destroyed the block the jet had placed between them.

Kaon shut off his coils, his visual map blinking out. Darkness surrounded him, but that was fine; he needed the dark for this. He needed to  _ concentrate.  _ He shut down sensation bit by bit, until his focus was bent entirely upon the empty ache that should have been full of Pharma: the place where they were joined. Kaon had studied sparkbonds extensively over the centuries; he knew very well what he was meant to be feeling just now - not merely because of the few moments he’d felt it, but because he’d imagined it, read about it, simulated it thousands of times. 

He should be tasting Pharma on every breath; hearing his thoughts with every spark rotation; feeling the same things Pharma was feeling. He should know what it was Pharma was doing to the Pet on the table. He should know  _ everything  _ about Pharma, from how hungry he was to his favorite song to his deepest, darkest secret.

And yet all there was, was a  _ void -  _ a chasm that screamed for its mate to feed it.

Kaon gritted his dentae and laid a hand over his rotor, feeling the spinning of his spark beneath his fingers. It throbbed a steady, saddened pulse, singing sorrow to him.  _ Please. Come back. I need you back. _

Kaon swallowed, focused, and pressed the boundary, diverting spark energy like a lockpick to the block Pharma had placed between them. If he pushed hard enough - if he forced enough of himself past that barrier and into Pharma -

The block pulsed cold as ice, and a wave of agony sent Kaon’s systems hissing back online, shrieking in alarm as painful charge dispersed through his circuits.

“Stop it,” Pharma snapped, his voice as sharp as a laser scalpel. “I’m attempting to work.”

Kaon snarled, a burst of static from his vocalizer that heralded an electric hum from his coils. Bolts of electricity spit from his hands and into the bench he’d made himself at home on when they’d first entered the operating suite, causing it to sizzle. “You can’t keep me out forever, Pharma,” he warned.

“Try me,” Pharma shot back. His optics narrowed into angry little slits, his grip upon the welding tool tightening with unnecessary force. “How you can even entertain the notion of keeping me as your mate is beyond me.”

Kaon frowned, settling sullenly back against the wall. “How you can stand our separation is equally beyond me,” he said. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Pharma made no reply, but his field pulsed an anxious orange color. Kaon smiled mirthlessly to himself, registering currents of pain and fear beneath that anxiety. Kaon might have had more pity for the mech if it wasn’t his own selfish behavior that had caused this.

_ How dare you? How dare you make a bond with me and try to take it back? _

He wanted to ask the question aloud, but Kaon choked it down, as bitter as cheap engex. The Pet was still on the table after all, and Kaon very much did want to see him healed. Poor, sweet Vos: he lay in stasis, optics blank, tongue lolling from his mouth as Pharma worked. Kaon’s frown deepened as his scanned the Pet’s body, a troubling thought occurring to him.

He hadn’t worried about the Pet  _ once  _ since he’d sparkbonded with Pharma.

_ Oh, darling. My good boy. I’m so sorry. _

Kaon wondered what his Vos would have thought of this, if he still had the ability to think. Would he have been sad? Would he have wished he’d agreed to a sparkbond before this had ever happened?

Would he, perhaps, be relieved that Kaon had found someone else to lavish with attention?

_ No.  _ Absolutely  _ not.  _ Kaon emphatically refused to believe that the Pet had never loved him; that his Vos had been playing a game with him, hoping to save himself from discovery. That he’d played Kaon for an utter fool and  _ succeeded. _

He was Kaon’s  _ good boy.  _ He would never betray him. Not after all the training they’d done to ensure he wouldn’t.

Pharma set down his tools at last, leaning against the table. Some his exhaustion bled through to Kaon despite the block the medic had placed between them. He was overwhelmed and weary, still struggling to process everything that had happened that day.  _ Poor darling. _

“How is he?” Kaon asked, letting his field wash over Pharma in the delicate facsimile of a caress.

Pharma shuddered, but did not turn or rebuff Kaon this time. “His nanites should be able to take it from here,” he said _.  _ “Probably best to keep him in stasis until tomorrow. Let the nanites do their work, conserve resources. We should be finished here in a moment.”

_ At last.  _ Kaon stood on aching joints, finally stable enough to rise without stumbling, and made his way to Pharma, looming behind the smaller bot’s back. Pharma was finishing a few short tasks - setting a timer on the Pet’s stasis lock, noting orders for the Pet’s recovery on a nearby datapad. Pharma was at his liveliest when he was working, his spark of energy palpable even at a distance.

Kaon was beginning to grow tired of  _ distance.  _

As Pharma finished his task, Kaon took one small step closer, tentatively laying his fingers on the doctor’s sides. “Pharma, we should - ”

Pharma made a sound like a siren and all but hurled himself away from Kaon, plating bristling. Kaon’s systems leapt to high alert, switching Pharma from  _ beloved  _ to  _ target  _ in the space of a spark rotation. His coils flared bright with deadly energy, ready to strike if Pharma made a move.  _ No, that’s wrong, don’t - _

“Don’t  _ touch  _ me,” Pharma snarled. Kaon’s neural net registered Pharma raising his hands in front of him, as if they could ward Kaon off. “Just - just stay  _ away  _ from me - ”

Kaon swallowed the acrid taste of half-processed energon as fury tore through him. “I was only trying to - !”

“I don’t  _ care, _ ” Pharma snapped. His small engine roared with the same anger as Kaon’s, his field pulsing red and green and blue in rapid succession. Anger - fear - sadness. Sadness? Kaon paused, cocking his helm. “I don’t want you anywhere near me until I… until I find a way to…”

All of the energy seemed to drain out of him at once. His field shrank to a mere dulled outline, and he stumbled and fell forward with a dizzy groan. For a moment, even the block he’d put up to cut Kaon off faltered, exhaustion and hunger and a nameless terror Pharma was trying not to feel washing through him.

_ Oh, darling. This won’t do,  _ Kaon thought. He strode forward, catching Pharma before he could hit the floor and sweeping him up into his arms.

“No - don’t - ” Pharma hissed - but there was no heat behind it this time. “Put me down -!”

Kaon growled and bared his teeth, an animal snarl: a habit he’d picked up after domesticating Vos. It had proven an effective tool for cowing both the Pet and the deserters on the List. Intimidation, pain and fear would  _ always  _ bring his subjects into line.

Apparently it worked as well on Pharma as it had on Vos. He shrank in Kaon’s grasp, optics wide and field bleeding fear-green.  _ Good boy. Good jet. _

“There, that’s better,” Kaon said, buttery and soft. He bumped Pharma’s crest with his nose, a gentle, loving touch.  _ Good behavior deserves a reward.  _ “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“You know I can’t - ”

“You _can,_ and you _will,_ ” Kaon said, tightening his grip on the medic until Pharma hissed in pain. “You need to recharge, and you are going to do so, or so help me...” 

“You’ll what?” Pharma challenged, field bristling. “Beat me into submission? Chain me to your berth?”

Mmm. Now  _ there  _ was a pleasing thought. Kaon briefly entertained the idea as he turned towards the door and kicked it open with a pede: Pharma tied down and gasping, Kaon’s field igniting Pharma’s in wave after wave of pleasure and pain, until he was sobbing and begging for Kaon to frag him, to tear him to pieces, to burn every last inch of him with brilliant charge... 

“Don’t test me,” Kaon said, venting hard, “Or I  _ absolutely  _ will.”

Pharma made an angry sound, not entirely different to Kaon’s growl; but he stopped even attempting to struggle. His field dwarfed itself into a sullen dark blue-gray, like storm clouds. 

_ You are so beautiful. If only I could see you fully and know how gorgeous you really are... _

Pharma sagged, one hand coming to rest above the spark that he had claimed. “I can’t stay,” he said. “Not even to rest.  _ Especially  _ not to rest. I did what I could, but the ‘bots back at base will be wondering where the Pit I am if I don’t make an appearance soon.”

Ah. Right. The Autobot Base, the base of Pharma’s faction - the unpleasant little detail Kaon had been so valiantly attempting to ignore, til now. “You can’t go back there,” Kaon said, clutching Pharma possessively to his chest. “You have to stay with me.”

Pharma cast him a tired look, his field flickering with irritation. “Were you this dense with your former sparkmate, or are you making a special exception for me?”

Oh, that was unfair. That was  _ unkind. _ “You know we weren’t sparkmates,” he said, scanning the corridor for any signs of Tarn. Any member of the crew finding them like this would be… unpleasant, but Kaon had a feeling it would be worse if Tarn realized his punishment had been aborted so soon.

_ He’d hate it more if he knew what he had caused. _

Pharma’s arms finally wrapped around Kaon’s intake. He’d apparently accepted he wasn’t going to be able to walk on his own, and that Kaon wasn’t going to release him. “The point is, Kaon, I can’t stay here,” he said. “Tarn wants t-cogs, and I’m the vehicle by which he receives said t-cogs. If I just… up and disappear from my base, how will he get his supply?”

Kaon rumbled, low in his chest. He knew Pharma was right, of  _ course  _ he did. But trying to imagine a week - two weeks - sometimes even three - passing by without his sparkmate… the mere idea was torture.  _ It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to  _ **_stay._ ** “So, what?” Kaon asked, tightening his grip. His vocalizer quivered despite himself, despair filling him. “We just… go our separate ways and pretend this never happened?”

“That would be the ideal scenario, yes.”

Kaon flinched as though he’d been slapped. How could Pharma even _think_ like that? Everything about the words was repulsive and horrible, a blaster wound to Kaon’s spark. “No. Absolutely _not,_ ” Kaon hissed. “I’m not letting you go. Not _ever_. We’re _bonded,_ we’re meant to be together…” 

He was sparking again, static crackling over his plating. He heard Tarn’s voice as an echo in the back of his helm:  _ Control yourself. You’re too emotional. You must stay calm. Calm, Kaon.  _ But calm wouldn’t come. 

All his life he’d waited for this, and now all Pharma wanted was to  _ ignore it? _

No. Never. Kaon would sooner tear off every last limb Pharma possessed before he let that happen.

Pharma’s arms tightened around his intake, dragging him back to the present. His touch, uncertain and wary, was a lifeline Kaon instantly clung to, desperate for something,  _ anything  _ from his sparkmate. He stopped mid-stride and turned, pressing his faceplate against Pharma’s crest. “Please. You can’t leave me,” he whispered, clinging to the medic. 

_ Everyone else already has. _

Pharma swallowed audibly, his intake bobbing. His field turned soft and uncertain, infused with pity. “You… are very determined to see this through,” he said at last. “I don’t understand why you want this so much.”

Kaon’s mouth quirked into a small, bitter smile. “I have plenty of answers for you,” he said. “But if you truly want to know… you’ll have to remove the block.”

Pharma’s field twisted in upon itself, a strange mixture of revulsion and curiosity rolling over him. Kaon watched, fascinated, as Pharma’s feelings played around him like a storm: rolling clouds of lime green and pale blue intermingling and patterning themselves over his frame.  _ Beautiful,  _ Kaon thought, letting it infuse his own field with warmth: letting his admiration wash through Pharma.  _ Absolutely beautiful. _

Pharma’s fingers flexed at the back of Kaon’s neck, a moment of indecision hanging between them. Kaon pressed a little closer, nuzzling Pharma’s helm with a tenderness he had reserved for the Pet. “Please,” he said again: burying Pharma in the anguish he felt, smothering him with want.

Pharma vented slowly, his optics shuttering closed. “Fine,” he grumbled at last, relenting under Kaon’s assault. “Have it your way.” 

And then, slowly, the block fell away, the cold layer of black crumbling and allowing Pharma to flood Kaon’s senses once more.

_ Primus, yes, please, yes yes yes -  _

Kaon’s helm shot up, coils flaring bright with excited charge the instant he felt Pharma flowing into him. He could see and feel and hear and taste Pharma everywhere, and it was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever  _ dreamed.  _ He trembled as Pharma’s fear and curiosity rolled through him and became his _.  _ It was  _ wonderful.  _ He’d never felt so intimately connected to anyone before, and he needed more, he needed  _ everything… _

But not dead center of a corridor. There was the matter of Tarn and the rest of the DJD to consider, after all. He veered into a small, dark room nearby before he lost himself too much in the newness of their bond - before he became so entranced that he forgot everything else around him. Once inside, he closed the door with an internal command and dropped to the floor beside the wall, setting Pharma upon his lap. 

Pharma’s confusion filled him up, an unspoken question asked and answered before they’d even formed the thoughts into words:

 

  * __What are you doing?__


  * _Feeling you… while I can. I want you to overwhelm me. I want every inch of you in every inch of me._



The jet flared that same shade of green that Kaon so loved - poor frightened little ‘bot - as he understood what it was Kaon wanted from him. But he didn’t close Kaon out, allowing Kaon to feel and explore every passing thought as they occurred in him. Kaon pounced, taking Pharma in as quickly and as much as he could manage: finding what he looked like in Pharma’s processor (oh, handsome, Pharma had tagged him as  _ handsome _ ), how Pharma felt about him (terrified, angry, protective, confused,  _ turned on  _ oh yes very good), what Pharma had felt about him before this had happened (bad, cold, angry, scowling, monster - less good). Fragments of memory pushed through too: Pharma freezing at the sound of Kaon’s voice on his comm, Pharma bent over his berth and retching at the news of what the Pet was, Pharma’s disgust and horror and pity upon treating the Pet in the snow…

Pharma finally flinched back when Kaon grabbed at his memories of their bonding. Kaon tasted a few blissful, perfect seconds of arousal and awe and  _ wanting  _ before Pharma slammed the wall between them back into place, attempting to disentangle himself from Kaon’s lap.

“Fine,” he snapped, kicking at the floor as he struggled to get up. Kaon’s neural net swam with the sudden silence, spark darkening as things it could no longer feel faded away.  _ No no no - come back, darling, please, come back - !  _ “You enjoy invading all my thoughts, and you want to be wanted. Don’t we all. That’s not reason enough to - ”

There was a dull roar in Kaon’s audials, a swell of fury he couldn’t control. “Come. Here,” he snarled, digging his fingers into Pharma’s hips. Lightning leapt from his fingers to Pharma’s frame, sending a jolting shock through the smaller mech. “Don’t you  _ dare _ try crawling away from me again. You’re  _ mine,  _ damn you. You  _ owe  _ me this!”

Pharma yelped and sank back into Kaon’s lap. He was - oh, no, he was shaking, he was  _ terrified.  _ Kaon had only wanted him to hold  _ still,  _ to open back up and actually  _ try  _ to understand… he hadn’t meant to frighten him.

Well. He  _ mostly  _ hadn’t meant to.

“Shhh,” Kaon murmured, cupping Pharma’s face in his hands. “Shh, sweetspark, I’m sorry. It’s alright. You’re alright.” He leaned forward and kissed Pharma’s forehead, softly; remembering when he would do the same to Vos, once, a long time ago, how doing so had instantly calmed him. “You’re alright, darling. It’s just, you make me so  _ angry  _ when you cut me off like that. You don’t want me to be angry, do you?”

Pharma shook his head, his whole frame shuddering.

“Good,” Kaon said absently, petting the jet. “Good mech. My pretty medic.” Pharma wasn’t relaxing the way he wanted him to; he was still on edge, stiff and cold and cut off. Kaon wanted,  _ needed  _ him back. “Come here,” Kaon coaxed, peppering Pharma’s cheek with soft little kisses. “Open the connection back up for me. I want you to understand this. I  _ need _ you to.”

Pharma’s spinal strut was ramrod straight, his fingers digging into the transformation seams of Kaon’s chestplate. He hadn’t relaxed at  _ all.  _ In fact, the kisses seemed to have made things worse. The deep, cherry red of alarm that drenched his field indicated he was more frightened than he had been before. Kaon scanned over the jet’s frame and found his optics cycled wide and bright, fixed upon Kaon’s intake - as if looking anywhere else might get his head ripped off. 

Oh, this wouldn’t do. Kaon didn’t want him to be afraid - at least, not right now. He tilted Pharma’s chin up, nuzzling his cheek. “Go on, sweetspark,” he crooned. “Open up the connection for me.” He remembered the bright burst of arousal the medic had felt when he’d praised Pharma out in the snows of Messatine; perhaps that would get a better reaction from him. “Please?” Kaon said. “You’re so beautiful. I want to feel every little part of you. Your intellect, your emotions, your mind, all of it is  _ incredible - ” _

Pharma’s field flushed a deep, dark pink. The tightness of his struts began to unwind, and his shaking slowed, a shuddering vent escaping him.  _ Good. Good boy.  _ “Pretty doctor,” Kaon breathed, directly into Pharma’s audial. “Pretty, perfect doctor…  _ please? _ ”

Pharma made a choked sound, optics looking anywhere but at Kaon’s face. His faceplates heated against Kaon’s palms, warming at the same time as his interface panel - oh.  _ Oh _ , that was lovely. Kaon shifted to bring that heat closer, just enough to poise Pharma’s panel against his own. He had no intention of acting on it just yet, but he could enjoy Pharma’s warmth, imagining what delights lay hidden beneath that burning panel…

“Lovely little Autobot,” Kaon singsonged, kissing Pharma’s audial. “Won’t you let me see more of that brilliant mind of yours?”

The sound that tore out of Pharma’s throat was decidedly filthy. “If I do,” Pharma rasped, his vocalizer tripping over the words, “Will you let me go? Will you take me back to Delphi?”

_ No,  _ a dark voice insisted, somewhere deep in Kaon’s processor. “Yes,” he said aloud, because there was no other answer. Not  _ yet,  _ at any rate.

But perhaps soon…

“Go on,” Kaon said, nudging Pharma’s cheek with his nose. “Open up for me.”

Pharma’s modesty panel gave a satisfying hissing sound, as if it meant to open instead, before Pharma’s field burned siren red and blocked the command with an override. “Give - give me a moment,” he said. “I just need a second to - ”

Kaon grinned, letting his hand drift lazily down Pharma’s shoulder to his hip. “Of course,” he said. “Take your time.”

The teasing way he stroked Pharma’s landing wheels was only a  _ tiny  _ bit deliberate.

Pharma bit down on another groan, scrambling to find a grip on Kaon’s shoulders. He bucked against Kaon’s panel with a half-choked cry, quivering and bright with charge. Pits, he was  _ exquisite _ .  No wonder Tarn had been loath to share him. 

_ If I’d gotten to you before Tarn did, I wouldn’t have shared you, either. _

The incredible heat against his panel was abruptly joined by the rush of the block collapsing: Pharma exposed to him again, open and bright and pulsing with shameful lust. Kaon’s hand stilled as Pharma flooded him again, and this time, the moan that sounded on the air was his. “Oh,  _ Pharma, _ ” he hissed, clutching the medic close. “You are wonderful…”

The ache of Pharma’s wanting spiked higher at the words. Kaon opened his mouth, ready to praise him further, ready to coo and compliment and caress Pharma into ecstatic oblivion - but Pharma pressed his own need aside, determination setting into him.  _ What are you - oh!  _

Pharma was digging _ ,  _ searching through Kaon’s thoughts: tugging at memory and feeling as each new part of Kaon caught his fancy. If Pharma was afraid, he wasn’t showing it anymore. He was aglow with curiosity and excitement, greedily snatching any scrap of Kaon he could access. Kaon could only lean back and let him, entranced as more and more of Pharma mingled with more and more of him.

Pharma went  _ deep,  _ pulling at fragments of memory from the very beginning of Kaon’s life. Kaon was suddenly confronted by his younger self: bright-opticed and brighter-sparked, new and awed and confused by the dizzying new world he found himself in. He saw the first time he’d discovered the electrical ability he’d been born with, energy spilling out of him in shrieking fury over the Autobot who’d attacked him. More and more of his memories bloomed before him, passing by him in a rapidfire swirl: meeting Tarn; testing his coils; holding the Pet; his own fingers reaching up, tearing his optics from his sockets with a protesting shriek of metal -

“Primus,” Pharma whispered, lingering over that one. He was horrified, but there was something else beneath that horror: something sickening and gruesome, a pulse of undeniable hunger at the gory display.

Kaon smiled a slow, cold smile.  _ We are not so different, you and I. _

Far be it for Kaon to deny anything his darling desired. He filled Pharma up with every optic-related memory: the constant explosions when his energy overwhelmed them, the energon that slicked his hand when he tore them from his helm, the secret box he kept them in. The time he’d installed new ones when they’d exploded, only to find cameras buried within them. His snarl of rage as he tore them from his own helm. His time in Shockwave’s lab, amplifying his audials and his field, practicing his skills, altering his alt-mode, becoming  _ Kaon… _

Pharma’s field glowed white and angelic. He was so close, so warm, so  _ fascinated.  _ Suddenly Pharma took control again, seizing every little detail he could find. Where Kaon was born. When he joined the DJD. How he created the List. His feelings for Vos. What it was like when Vos was still Cybertronian. Kaon’s memory of the domestication. His feelings for the rest of the team. All the times he’d let Tarn’s voice frag him. The time he’d begged Tarn to bond with him; the time he’d begged Vos. Their refusals, cold and insistent and angry, and Kaon’s spark breaking both times, not understanding why they wouldn’t agree to be his, why they didn’t want him to be  _ theirs. _

“Oh,” Pharma said aloud. The single word was full of sadness, a  _ click  _ of understanding that was more felt than heard echoing in Kaon’s neural net.

 

  * __Do you understand now? Do you see why I can’t let you go? Do you see why I need this?__



As if in answer, Pharma pressed an image of Ratchet through Kaon’s neural net: then another, then another. Pharma sitting at a table with Ratchet and laughing. Pharma arguing over research with Ratchet. Pharma climbing into Ratchet’s lap, nipping the crest of his helm. Pharma tapping his spark, bright-eyed and hopeful, wearing a tentative smile -

Ratchet shaking his head sternly, leaving their habsuite with the  _ slam _ of a door.

Ratchet, a long time after, telling Pharma he was leaving. Pharma asking Ratchet if he should go to Delphi. Ratchet disappearing without a word, without goodbye - with nothing.

 

  * __Yes, Kaon. I think I have some idea of your reason why.__


  * _Darling… I’m sorry._


  * _So am I._



Kaon would have been content to sit in silence after that: Pharma pressed close to his spark, warm and pliant in his lap... but Pharma had other ideas. He was still probing, still curious, digging for something specific. Kaon frowned, watching as Pharma pushed through increasingly vague memories: past Vos, past the DJD, past his optics, somewhere even further back...

Pharma reached out and came back with one word.

_ Amp. _

Warnings exploded through Kaon’s neural net, his mapping turning deep, violent red as the word rose up from the dark space where he’d buried it. “ _ No _ ,” he snarled, shoving Pharma off of his lap. His spark spun madly, wild with terror, his tanks roiling at the name he’d deliberately cast aside… “That word is dead to me... you can’t  _ know  _ that - !”

Pharma barely managed to catch himself as he fell, his wings smashing against a chair with a painful  _ clang.  _ “How can I be your sparkmate if I don’t know who you are?” Pharma retorted, clutching at his hurt wing. “If I can’t even know your true name?”

“There is  _ nothing  _ true about that name!” Kaon shouted. He was furious and sick with betrayal,  angry enough to kill if pressed. “Amp is dead. Amp is a memory of a time  _ before,  _ a mech without purpose, a mech who was  _ nothing -  _ ”

“And  _ this _ is something?” Pharma replied. Kaon tracked the sharp slice of his medic’s hand through the air as he gestured vehemently to Kaon. “This List you make based on ever-changing criteria, reordering on whatever whim comes over you, whatever change you think might finally perfect an algorithm four million years in the making?”

“Don’t you insult my work,” Kaon hissed. His spark roared in his audials, his visual map so blurred with red he could hardly track where anything was within the room. “Those who betray the Cause deserve the judgment we bring upon them.”

Pharma  _ laughed.  _ It was a bizarre enough turn that Kaon froze, some of the angry red bleeding from his visual mapping. “Says the mech with a habit of falling for traitors,” the jet said. Kaon’s visual map formed an image of Pharma’s smile: teeth bared, lips drawn back into a mocking smirk. “Is that an accident, sweetspark - or do you enjoy the heady rush of barely skirting the title yourself?”

Kaon  _ screamed:  _ an audial-shattering howl accompanied by the chorus of his coils, firing wildly into ceiling and wall. He shook with the vastness of his own anger, the twisting guilt and pain and hatred that gripped him all at once. His entire frame sizzled with heat as his coils kept firing, powered by his hurt. How  _ dare  _ Pharma even imply - how could he even  _ think… _

_ He thinks it because it’s true. Because you think it, too.  _

As quickly as it had begun, the electric shriek of his coils powered down to a whine, steam rising from his frame as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. He was shaking, strutless, vents hiccuping as he tried to gain control again, tried to calm himself. He felt something wet leaking from his sockets: slick streaks of oil staining silvery metal faceplates, dripping onto the floor. 

Wonderful. He was crying in front of his sparkmate. He was crying and he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. He had to get himself under control. Tarn was always telling him he was too rash, too open, too emotional, and he was only proving him right...

His helm bumped against cool glass, and equally cool hands found their way to his finial and neck, stroking soothingly along the superheated metal. “Shhh,” Pharma murmured, his voice soft. His spark beat a calming tune, though his thoughts were more tumultuous: full of fear and bitterness and pity, sadness and understanding.

 

  * __I understand. I hate myself, too.__



Kaon let out a full-fledged sob, sitting up and throwing his arms around Pharma’s frame. He needed - oh, Primus, he needed  _ something,  _ he needed reassurance, he needed to feel stable and calm again…

“Shhh,” Pharma repeated, wrapping one arm around Kaon’s shoulders. “Hush. Hush, love. It’s alright. You’re alright. I’m right here.”

Kaon shivered, crawling into Pharma’s lap, desperate to feel the jet’s frame. He needed Pharma to be solid; he needed to believe Pharma was there with him. That he wasn’t leaving. That he wouldn’t cut Kaon off again.

 

  * __I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.__



Kaon clung tighter to Pharma, fingers clutching at his turbine. Pharma was solid and warm and perfect, projecting calm reassurance. Kaon’s spark began to slow, his sobs fading into quiet hiccups, the panting vents he’d drawn to calm himself easing to a regular, even speed. Pharma was here with him. The bond was open and his mate was with him, comforting him, holding him. 

Everything would be alright, if only Pharma would stay.

Pharma drew in a deep, shuddering vent, running his hands over Kaon’s back. “If we’re going to do this,” he said. “If you intend to  _ make  _ us do this… We need to lay some ground rules.”

Kaon didn’t bother to look up - it wouldn’t help him see, and he was comfortable where he was, his face pressed close to Pharma’s spark. “Ground rules?”

“Mmm. Like a signal for things that are off-limits. A safe word for thoughts, if you will.” Pharma laughed to himself, a mirthless chuckle. “And we need to be careful about how and when we communicate, and when we see each other.”

Now Kaon  _ did  _ look up, spark pulsing supernova-bright. “You  _ want _ to see me outside of your visits to headquarters?”

Pharma made a small, discomfited noise. “Not often. Not unless you absolutely can’t  _ stand  _ to be separated anymore.”

Kaon already couldn’t stand even the thought of letting Pharma go; but Pharma didn’t need to know that. “Yes, yes, of course, absolutely,” Kaon agreed. “And when you’re here - ”

“We still have to hide this from Tarn.”

Ah. There was that. Kaon frowned, helm falling back against Pharma’s chest with a  _ thunk.  _ “My habsuite’s too obvious. The transport should be safe for now, and there are a few corridors the rest don’t really use.”

“It’ll do.” Pharma paused, his field alight with curiosity. “Kaon… why me?”

Kaon’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?” he asked. “It was  _ you _ who chose  _ me _ . You opened yourself to me and let me in.” He shrugged, nuzzling against the glass of Pharma’s cockpit. “I don’t need another reason. You wanted me, and now you have me. Forever.”

Ripples of worry echoed through Kaon’s neural net. Pharma was convinced he  _ hadn’t  _ chosen Kaon, but now he was questioning himself, turning the memory of their bonding over in his head, tracing the coding their bond had left behind. 

_ Go on, doctor. Keep looking.  You’ll draw the same conclusion soon enough. _

“There are worse reasons, I suppose,” Pharma said at last. He was distracted just then, frowning, something like anger and anxiety echoing in Kaon’s spark. “Kaon, sweetspark, I don’t mean to rush you, but I just got a ping from First Aid. He wants to know why I’ve been in my habsuite all day and if I’m coming out anytime soon. I have to go.”

_ No!  _ Kaon thought, grip tightening around Pharma’s waist. He knew he was being childish, but the thought of losing Pharma, of losing  _ this… _

“Darling. Please.” Primus, it was lovely hearing Pharma call him by the same sweet pet names Kaon used for him. Kaon wasn’t even sure it was a conscious choice. He’d known Pharma was deliberately coy with Tarn, playing temptress and trixter to woo Tarn into submission; but this felt… different.

Or perhaps he only wished it was.

Kaon growled and pushed himself to his feet, offering Pharma his hand. “Fine,” he said through gritted dentae, already aching for Pharma’s return. “Let’s go, before I change my mind.”

Pharma vented with relief, and he - oh, he was leaning against Kaon, he’d taken Kaon’s arm and was  _ leaning against him -  _

“Thank you,” Pharma said, nuzzling the ball of Kaon’s shoulder. Kaon shivered and pulled him close, soaking the medic in while he could.

_ How in the Pit am I going to survive without you? _


	6. Something Like Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets don't make friends. And sparkbonds don't allow for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. Life was crazy busy, I wasn't happy with what I'd written, and I was struggling to focus - but I finally got where I wanted to go in the end. And now I have a fairly solid idea for what to do next. However, I'm going out of town for a bit, so it may be another 2-3 weeks before an update.
> 
> As always, all of your comments, kudos and bookmarks are treasured and appreciated.
> 
> CW: Memory of and discussion of Rape/Noncon. Archive warnings being updated accordingly.

Kaon’s arm was heavy at Pharma’s hip as they made their way to the transport. His fingertips tapped a rhythmless melody, drumming the pace of his anxious thoughts into Pharma’s frame. If things were different, it would have set Pharma’s teeth on edge. Instead, it felt like comfort; like a caress. Like home.

Pharma hadn’t felt like this about anyone in a long, long time - and he _hated_ it.

Pharma was - what was the word? He was _intrigued_ by Kaon. _Fascinated._ Now that he’d seen the mech whose spark he’d stolen completely vulnerable and open, Pharma was a repulsive mixture of elated and enraged, overcome by curiosity. He wanted - he wanted - what did he want? Damn him, why could he put it into words? He needed - he wanted - he _craved…_

_I want what I can’t have. What I’ll never have. What I_ **_shouldn’t_ ** _have._

Something like affection was trying to house itself inside his spark, an insidious little beast brought achingly to life when defenseless Kaon had collapsed into his lap. No - before that, when he’d seen the deep loathing and contempt Kaon held for himself. No; even before that, when he’d watched Kaon tear out his own optics rather than submit to the abuses of the Senate. Primus, what a gesture. What _courage._ Pharma could almost admire him, if only he hadn’t become… well. What he was.

Kaon’s body was warm. He hummed bright sparks of electric energy, brilliant and beautiful, and very much despite himself, Pharma found himself entranced. The now-open bond between them flexed and flowed with Kaon’s worry and Pharma’s greedy interest, thought and feeling slipping from one to the other as easily as water. He had unrestricted access to every part of Kaon: even the storied history the DJD endeavored to erase from every one of their members when they joined.

_Amp._ His designation was Amp. Cold-constructed. Probably an outlier, Pharma reflected, though Kaon had never assigned himself that title. A rare and intriguing creature. It was hardly surprising that Tarn had gone out of his way to recruit him, given his abilities and fervor for the Cause. Pharma dug again for the memory of those bright optics torn free of Kaon’s helm, cameras within shattered and disconnected…

Tarn must have heard what Kaon had done and chased him down immediately after. _The perfect recruit,_ Tarn had called Amp when he’d met him: _the perfect weapon._

But Kaon was decidedly more than that. No matter how Pharma wished to think of him - _monster, Decepticon, murderer, torturer -_ he was a living, feeling mech too, brought vividly to life every time a new memory slipped from him to Pharma. It was hard to ‘other’ someone whose every thought lived and breathed within him; harder still to disentangle from the near-instant intimacy such a connection created.

Pharma wanted to _protect_ Kaon. He wanted Kaon safe and close and warm beside him, just like this, forever - and that _terrified_ him.

_I can’t. I can’t. We can’t._

Kaon smiled, a soft little smile, his grip tightening at Pharma’s waist. Whatever Pharma was feeling, Kaon had felt it too. Pharma’s wide-eyed stare changed to a narrow frown as he turned his helm aside, almost dropping his hand from Kaon’s waist.

Kaon _squeezed,_ and Pharma thought better of it.

Something would have to be done. Pharma could not - _would not_ \- stay bonded to a Decepticon. He’d betrayed his own cause enough as it was. To be bonded to the enemy - to call one his sparkmate - to share his every waking moment with one - was an indignity Pharma didn’t think that he could bear.

_But you can’t break the bond, either. Kaon will kill you if you try. You might kill_ **_yourself_ ** _if you try._

Pharma clenched his free fist at his side. It didn’t matter that having the bond open felt so _right._ That was part of the sparkbonding process, part of its associated coding - at least, Pharma assumed it was. It was meant to feel wonderful and soft and close like this, meant to keep the mechs who’d initiated it together. Manual blocks _hurt._ That was a deliberate part of the coding, too, Pharma was sure: to prevent sparkbonded mechs from separating. Instituting any kind of boundary between himself and Kaon was going to be painful. And worse - he would feel empty _,_ horribly empty, like a black hole was swallowing him from within.

For the moment, breaking the bond was out of the question. Fine. Perhaps he could simply _avoid_ Kaon instead. Get on the transport to Delphi as usual; disembark when they arrived; wait for the door to close and the transport to start; then institute the same blocking protocols he’d used to cut Kaon off before. After that was done, he could request that Helex or Tesarus or even (ugh) _Vos_ transport him to the base from now on. He was already halfway composing the message to Tarn, inventing excuses: _I don’t want to make another mistake, Kaon is far too devoted to his Pet, I don’t feel safe with him -_

A sharp, electric jolt into his hip made Pharma yelp. Pharma looked up into Kaon’s face, swallowing a frightened cry when he beheld the full-force glare of Kaon’s narrowed, empty sockets.

“Now, _Pharma,_ ” Kaon said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I know you would _never_ be so foolish as to try and plot a way to escape me. You wouldn’t even _consider_ betraying my trust like that, would you, sweetspark?”

Pharma’s intake seized as the grip upon his side became too sharp, too tight. Fury hovered just beneath Kaon’s seemingly placid surface: an acid rage Pharma could feel filling him up, drowning him.

“Of course not,” he managed to say, finally, through tightly clenched teeth. “I would never be so stupid.”

“ _There’s_ my good boy.” Kaon smiled again and eased up, smoothing his fingertips over the area he’d shocked. “I knew you’d be sensible. After all, you were thinking such _lovely_ things about me a few moments before that little slip.”

Pharma glowered up at Kaon, a swell of hatred slicing through him - undercutting the warmth and affection his spark was so desperately attempting to create. “I can’t be safe even in my own head, can I?” he hissed. “A mech is allowed to have secrets, Kaon - even from his sparkmate.”

“The _Pit_ he is,” Kaon retorted, coils flaring with angry electric light. “Duplicitous ideas like _sparkbond destruction_ and _running away_ aren’t innocent little secrets, _doctor mine._ They’re treason of the highest order - and you should know very well by now what it is we do to traitors.”

Pharma’s hand clenched on Kaon’s hip, tearing the metal - drawing a hiss from the taller mech as pain flared through his EM field. “Threatening your sparkmate, darling?” Pharma said, sickly sweet. “That’s not very becoming of you. Where’s the respect? The trust?”

If Kaon had been angry before, he was _furious_ now. Something in him _snapped_ at that word, _trust:_ shattered like a pane of glass holding back a flood. Kaon snarled and whirled, grabbing Pharma by the arms and slamming him against the corridor wall. Streams of light licked his frame as his coils exploded: a showy display of wrath that was both beautiful and horrible.

_What did I do, what have I done, what have I DONE -_

“The last time I trusted the mech I loved,” Kaon hissed, “he stabbed me in the back. I don’t intend to make that mistake twice. I’ll care for you and devote myself to you and love you as you like - but _trust_ you, Pharma? _Never._ ”

Pharma should have been terrified. Pharma should have curled in on himself, desperate, screaming, waiting to die at Kaon’s hands. Kaon had hold of his wrists, and from his palms coy lightning flickered, pressing painful electric kisses to the joints beneath; yet Pharma felt no pain. That feeling that he could not name was there again, like a virus that wouldn’t die, filling him with heat where only fear should be.

Kaon was exquisite like this: aglow with light drawn from within, furious and aching, dancing around a festering wound torn open by whatever it was Pharma had said. He was raw and bleeding and open and beautiful, and he was _Pharma’s,_ he belonged only to _him_ -

Kaon’s sockets widened, and his coils flickered off with a screech, the fury flooding from him in a wave of shock and wanting.

_Slag._ Pharma jumped, the spell broken, understanding then that Kaon had felt _everything_ : every soft and kindly thought, every swell of the emotion Pharma refused to voice, every instant Pharma had thought of him as _perfect. Exquisite. Mine._ Pharma shook himself and forced himself to glare, drudging up as much anger as he could muster. “And how is it _my_ fault that past lovers hurt you?” he said. The words felt _wrong,_ like razor blades against his tongue, but he couldn’t stop them now that they were flowing. “Join the slagging club. We’ve _all_ been betrayed by the ones we loved. Let’s not be naive about what romance entails, shall we?” He laughed darkly, hating the prickle behind his optics as he thought of Ratchet. “You and I, darling - we’re in the wrong business for innocence.”

Whatever warmth Kaon had begun to feel cooled at the words, a glare replacing that brief, precious second of hope. Pharma’s spark twisted, a sick feeling roiling in his tanks. “You don’t know what happened,” he said, low and sullen. “You don’t know what he did to me.”

“You’re right,” Pharma said flatly. “I don’t. I don’t even know who he - ” He paused. Realization hit him like a cresting tidal wave. “The Pet,” he said. “Your Vos. That’s who you mean.”

“Bravo,” Kaon drawled - even as an equally sick feeling filled him, pinging back to Pharma. “So perceptive! Is this the famed wit that earns your reputation as one of the finest doctors in the known universe?”

“Oh, sarcasm! Adorable,” Pharma mocked. “I didn’t think you had it in you. I thought you were all childish sulks and hurt feelings, crying into your Pet’s fur whenever daddy Tarn ignored you too long - ”

Kaon hissed and surged forward, his grip reasserting itself on Pharma’s wrists. His coils gleamed with light again, his plating bristling at the insult; and Pharma grinned in reply, baring his teeth. “ _There_ you are,” he purred. “There’s the mech that haunts the dreams of every defector in your ranks.”

Kaon’s glower turned to a feral grin, monstrous and awful and unbearably attractive. “Do you like me like this?” he said, his voice laced with charge. “Do you like me angry and ready to kill? I can be that for you, darling, if that’s what gets you off. You like them big and dangerous, I suppose, or else you wouldn’t have chased after Tarn.”

Pharma _laughed,_ high and bitter and hysterical. “You think _I_ pursued _Tarn?_ Primus, you really _are_ naive. Tarn barely paused long enough to ask for my consent. He sang sweet nothings in my audials until I could do nothing but beg for it, and then he made me _thank_ him for the privilege. How’s _that_ for pursuit?”

Oh, good. Now _Pharma_ was the one who was crying. A single, slick trail of coolant slipped down his cheek before he shut down his tear ducts by force. He wasn’t going to weep like a child. He wouldn’t show that kind of weakness. It had happened and it was over, and now he’d come to expect and anticipate it. Tarn was routine. Tarn was easy. Tarn was quick and hard and furious, pounding to the beat of his dreaded _music,_ stuffing his fingers in Pharma’s mouth just to feel him bite. He knew what Tarn liked and he could almost exit his own frame now when it happened, floating somewhere above himself as if he was in a dream -

Kaon dropped him, skittering backwards as though Pharma had burned him.

Pharma stumbled and collapsed against the wall, rubbing his sore wrists. When he looked at Kaon, Kaon was still shivering, mouth open, shock and confusion pulsing through his field. “I - I thought - ”

Pharma flexed his fingers, glaring at the red mech. “You thought - what?” he said coldly. “That I begged Tarn for his spike? That my high-ranking Autobot self just happened to develop a fetish for big Decepticon tanks? Don’t be ridiculous. I’d have gladly let you keep him if it had been my choice.” He laughed again, a stuttering laugh that shook despite his best efforts. “Anyway,” he said, too brightly, with a glint of humor he didn’t feel at all, “I suppose _consent_ is a bit much to ask of the DJD, isn’t it?”

Kaon actually flinched, as if this revelation was a surprise to him.

“Oh, come on,” Pharma scoffed. “Don’t tell me your little Pet consented all the time to whatever you did together.”

Ah, _there_ was a reaction he could handle: Kaon bristling, plating flaring wide again, a snarl etching itself into his faceplates. “Vos  _loved_ me,” he spat. “We were talking about the Conjunx Ritus, we were going to be together always - ”

“And yet.” Pharma gestured to the empty corridor around them. He was being cruel and he knew it, but after all, didn’t Kaon deserve it? “I’m here, and he’s gone. Funny how that works.” Pharma paused, tilting his helm and frowning. “What was it he did to hurt you so badly? To be _punished_ the way he is? You never did say.”

“No, I didn’t,” Kaon replied. He drew himself back, reigning in the wild tide of his emotions, pulling away from Pharma bit by bit. “And I don’t intend to say, either.”

“Ah ah,” Pharma chided, with a manic little grin he barely recognized as his own. “No secrets between sparkmates. You said it yourself.” He pushed himself away from the wall and stepped closer. “That little tenet goes both ways, sweetspark.”

“No,” Kaon said, shaking his head furiously. “No, Pharma, don’t, I don’t - ”

Pharma reached out and caught Kaon’s hand - the first time he’d _ever_ initiated such a touch - and stepped even closer, into the confused disaster of Kaon’s field. He could feel the red mech’s emotions with such clarity at this distance: want and anger and sadness and pain wreaking havoc on his systems. And beyond that…

Pharma pushed inwards, past Kaon’s resistance, deeper and deeper into the other mech’s processor. He’d seen the moment that Vos had become the Pet before: the sharp mnemosurgeon’s needles in Kaon’s hands, the way he’d sobbed as he’d turned his beloved into an animal forever. He dug for it again, chasing it through the depths of Kaon’s neural net as Kaon tried to tug it back and back and back -

He caught it, yanking the memory file forward, forcing it to open.

 

**_[AUTOBOT COMMUNICATION DETECTED]_ **

**_[SIGNAL LOCAL]_ **

**_[WORKSTATION:113]_ **

**_[AGENT:VOS]_ **

**_[WARNING: AUTOBOT SPECIAL OPS ARRAY ACCESSED]_ **

**_[WARNING: MESSAGE IN PROCESS]_ **

**_[INTERCEPT? Y/N]_ **

**_[MESSAGE INTERCEPTED. AGENT:VOS ON LOCKDOWN.]_ **

**_[MESSAGE BODY:_ ** **_SEND HELP. EXTRACTION NEEDED. COVER SOON TO BE BLOWN. CONJUNX RITUS DEMANDED. GET ME OUT. GET ME OUT. ]_ **

 

Of all the things Pharma had been expecting, that was _not_ it. He froze, squeezing Kaon’s hand, as the rest of the memory came at him full force: the door swinging open, the utter panic in Kaon’s spark as he’d run to Vos’s habsuite, the sinking weight he’d felt upon finding Vos seated cross-legged on his berth, completely calm.

 

_\- Tell me this isn’t what it looks like. Vos? I’m begging you. Tell me. It. Isn’t. What. It. Looks. Like._

_\- I’m sorry. But it is. And you know what you must do. Go on, Kaon. I know you want to. Do your worst._

 

The images became a sickening swirl: Kaon screaming, endless energy spilling out of him, the shell he’d called Vos falling apart and revealing someone smaller; Helex and Tarn kicking the tiny mech, laughing, mocking him, hurting him, Kaon begging _no, please, let me keep him, please - I know a way…_

A bright red Autobot badge and the glitter of a mnemosurgeon’s needles shining deadly in the dark.

The memory went dark, and Pharma stumbled forward, disoriented, clutching at Kaon’s chest. Kaon was venting hard, as if he’d exerted himself too much, his vocalizer making small, plaintive sounds as he tried to recover.

“He was a spy,” Pharma breathed, shocked into speech. “An Autobot.” He looked up into Kaon’s face, mouth slack. “You were in love with an Autobot?!” Perhaps that was overstating things - obviously Kaon hadn’t _known_ Vos was an Autobot - but _still._

Kaon’s optics shuttered closed, blocking the darkness from view. “Yes.”

Pharma stared at him, studying his expression intently. “And you think he loved you back,” he said, unable to keep the note of incredulity from his tone.

Kaon’s lids snapped open again, an angry frown etching his faceplates. “He _did,_ ” he insisted. “We adored each other. Every moment we weren’t working we spent together - he was with me all the time. You don’t know, you didn’t see us…”

“And yet he wouldn’t bond with you,” Pharma pressed, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Because if he had, you’d have found out. You’d have known his real designation, his mission, everything. If he had a sparkmate, or a conjunx somewhere else - ”

Apparently that possibility had never occurred to Kaon. He stiffened, vocalizer resetting once or twice before he could speak: damning images of Vos with a mysterious, shadowy silhouette filling Kaon’s head. “He _didn’t,_ ” he insisted. “He _couldn’t_ have _._ He was with us for years, he would have said... he was mine, he would _never -_ ”

How could someone with Kaon’s years of experience possibly be so foolish? _You’re dreaming, Kaon. You’re clinging to a fantasy you can only pray is true._  “You don’t know that,” Pharma said. “You don’t even know who he really is.”

Kaon shuddered, his grip on Pharma’s hand slipping. “I - he _wouldn’t,_ he was _loyal,_ he - ”

“He was a _spy,_ ” Pharma snapped, exasperated. “He was an Autobot, like me.” _Except that he was nothing like me,_ he thought bitterly. _He actually spied for the Autobots. Reported information. Furthered the cause. And me? Everything I’ve done was to save my own aft. Mine, and Delphi’s._ “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you were somehow more important to him than his mission.”

Kaon glowered, his coils humming in warning. “Whatever your feelings on Tarn, you certainly do sound just like him,” he said.

Oh, that rankled - especially after what Pharma had revealed about Tarn to him. “Loath as I am to associate myself with Tarn in literally any way - he was right,” he said. It physically pained him to spit the words. “This spy of yours - this _pet -_ would have told you the truth if he’d cared enough. He would have done it even knowing he could die, because he cared only about _you._ But he didn’t, did he? He kept up the facade until he couldn’t anymore. Until you pressed him into agreeing to the Ritus. That was the one thing he couldn’t take atop all the other awful things he suffered, wasn’t it? He begged for an extraction just to get away from you…”

Kaon made a choked sound, his vocalizer spitting static. “ _No_ ,” he said stubbornly, clenching his fists. “I don’t believe that.”

“Well, that’s certainly your prerogative,” Pharma said sarcastically. “But according to your own memories, that’s what happened. You can lie to yourself if you must - but I think it’s clear we both know the truth.”

Kaon paused, his empty stare narrow and guarded. “Truth,” he said at last, tasting the word as it left him. “Such an interesting phrase.” He whetted his lips, almost like the Pet did, feral and anxious. “You’re right about one thing: Vos  _lied_ to me, and for that, I’ll never forgive him.” Kaon’s sockets seemed to lock on Pharma’s optics, even though that was impossible; even though there was no way… “And what about _you_?” he asked, his voice deathly quiet. “Will _you_ be true to me, Autobot? Or will you make the same mistake Vos did?”

Oh, Pits. The guarded look on Kaon’s face was _not_ a good sign. Pharma hesitated, lingering over the question. What was Kaon even asking? He already had a direct line into Pharma’s every thought and feeling. Between them, they knew the other as intimately as they knew themselves. What escape was there for him - what possibility for lying?

He couldn’t betray Kaon even if he tried.

Pharma swallowed, a thousand different feelings wreaking havoc on his spark. “Unlike your pet, Kaon, _I_ don’t have a choice,” he said. “As you yourself told me, I _belong_ to you - and you, in turn, are _mine._ ”

Kaon’s vents hitched and caught at that phrase: _mine._ His fans spun up, wild embers of hope flaring across his field. It was - oh, it was _intoxicating._ Pharma greedily took him in, the worshipful light in his eyes, the desperate longing to belong, and realized -

He _owned_ Kaon. Kaon was his willing supplicant, a subject ready and willing to bend to his command, if only he did what Kaon wanted. If only he would be good.

All Pharma had to do was love him back.

Oh, this changed things. This meant he was in control again: that he could call the shots. Pharma smiled, a slow, dark, deadly smile, and pressed his full frame up against Kaon’s, pulling him close. “Darling,” he crooned, “Did you forget? It was _me_ who claimed _you._ If that isn’t trust - if that isn’t _truth_ \- then what is?”

Kaon made a sound - a broken, aching sound of want - and reached for Pharma’s helm, all but snatching him up. Pharma pressed forward, ready and eager, excitement bursting like fireworks in his circuits -

Then Kaon stopped.

Pharma whined and popped up on his toes before he’d even considered the movement. He’d been fully expecting a violent kiss, the sort of kiss he’d imagined Tarn would give if not for that damnable mask. But there Kaon sat, mere millimeters away, head tilted and ready to close the distance at the slightest provocation.

_What are you waiting for?_

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Kaon asked, the softest, barest vent over Pharma’s mouth.

Pharma nodded, quick and frantic, staring up into Kaon’s face. Why was he asking? Why wasn’t he just _doing_ it -

Oh. _Oh._ Pharma’s spark squeezed inside his chest as realization hit him like a freight train. _A bit much to expect consent from the DJD…_ he’d said. And apparently, Kaon had actually listened.

“No,” Kaon said, but gently. “I need to hear you say it out loud. Don’t just nod. Can I kiss you?”

“ _Yes_ , I want you to kiss me,” Pharma said, instantly, without thinking. “ _Please._ ”

Seconds later Kaon’s mouth covered Pharma’s, smothering him in a dizzying kiss: pleading and utterly subservient, lips parting for Pharma when Pharma moved to slip his glossa between them. Pharma’s fans kicked on in turn, a dull roar sounding in his audials: his want and Kaon’s joining into a desire so overpowering he could hardly withstand the wave of heat that filled him.

Kaon swept him up without breaking the kiss, and Pharma closed his legs tight around Kaon’s waist in response. He wasn’t surprised when the cool metal of the wall met his back: wings clattering hard against the metal as he groped for Kaon’s helm, grinding his panel against the other’s. A wave of charge crackled its way across his EM field, revving him up, higher and higher as Kaon pressed back, metal squealing as the two plates scraped across one another. Pharma was dizzy with delight, shocked and aroused and too far gone to care that it was Kaon who was doing this to him, who was making him feel so _good..._

 

_\- Oh,_ **_Kaon -_ **

_\- Pharma please -_

_\- Darling I want -_

_\- Darling can I -_

_\- Yes you can, you absolutely can, please -_

_\- Oh please, oh please open for me, please, I want -_

 

A dark, rolling chuckle, like gravel and satin, made them both freeze: the sound hanging on the air like a warning siren, like ice in their lines.

“ **_Well_ ** ,” purred Tarn, looming large and dark in a nearby door. “Isn’t **_this_ ** an **_unexpected_ **sight…”


	7. A Deadly Little Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tarn swore he'd never share Kaon again after the incident with the Pet... and yet, the sight of Kaon pinning Pharma up against his office wall ignited not jealousy, but desire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We could alternatively call this chapter "Tarn is Super Horny On Main," and also, "Surprise POV Switch, for funsies!"
> 
> I rewrote this chapter a couple times to try and balance some of the darker elements. It's easy to go extremely grimdark with the DJD, and it's a delicate balance capturing good and bad qualities in scenes like this one. I'm still not sure I got it completely right, but oH MY GOD DID I TRY.
> 
> CW: Dubious Consent, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Manipulative/Abusive Relationships.
> 
> There's some questionable descriptions of the polyamorous DJD, as well. While parts of their polyamory function healthily, there are parts of it that decidedly do not. (That part's name is Tarn).
> 
> (I mean, also Kaon, tbh).
> 
> Thank you as always for reading, for your lovely comments, and following me down this weird rarepair hell. Ilu all <3

Tarn liked to pretend that he wasn’t a jealous mech. Oh, certainly, he made lofty speeches about _sharing_ and _trust_ and _mutual respect_ ; but the truth was, deep down, he didn’t like to share at all. Not unless the sharing was performed according to his exacting specifications. Helex and Kaon, for example - that was fine. He approved of them. They only ever played together when Tarn told them that they could. Helex hadn’t touched Kaon without Tarn’s say-so since the… _unfortunate_ incident with the Pet. However disappointed he felt, Helex did as he was commanded, and Tesarus and Vos too. The three of them were exactly as they should have been: obedient. Willing. Happy to share with Tarn when he was in the mood for it; happy to step aside when he wasn’t.

Kaon was more complicated.

Tarn had no illusions about his communications officer. Kaon was an obsessive little monster, greedy and attention-seeking, overly affectionate. It was what had been most appealing about Kaon at first: that obsessive streak in him, latched fully onto Tarn, was an ego boost like no other. He had been to Kaon nearly a god, like Primus granting his favor to his most loyal supplicant - and Tarn had reveled in his worship, utterly consumed by it, intoxicated by the power he had over this single, perfect mech.

But he was a Commander on a very important mission, specially charged to him by the mech he prized above all others: Lord Megatron. Kaon could never really take center stage. Not fully. Kaon needed more of Tarn than Tarn could give him.

Tarn had realized then there was only one solution: his men had to be _more_ than a team. At his command, they became everything to each other: coworkers, friends, partners, berthmates. Lovers. Sharing was the only way to keep Kaon; the only way for Tarn to have his energon goodie and eat it, too. It worked beautifully, too: Kaon got the love and attention he needed from the rest of the team, and Tarn kept him close to hand for the times when he could spare the energy and time to love him properly. The team became closer, more tight-knit, more loyal. As lovers they were stronger, a powerhouse, a perfect unit - synced to one another in a way that would never have been possible otherwise.

Then the spy had found his way in, and their idyllic little arrangement had shattered into a million pieces.

After the Pet’s domestication, Tarn had sworn he would not give Kaon to anyone else ever again. Clearly Kaon couldn’t handle the responsibility, the _trust_ Tarn put in him to keep some part of himself reserved for Tarn. He’d thrown himself entirely into his filthy affair with that traitor, and he’d wanted to _conjunx_ him to boot, despite prior agreements. _None of us will take a conjunx. Not each other. Not an outsider. We are enough as we are. We will not cheapen what we share with useless titles and ceremonies._

Yet Kaon, most loyal, most beloved, had been so thoroughly bewitched by the spy that he’d planned to betray that oath. Planned to betray _Tarn._ He’d neglected his dearest teammates in favor of a - a _beast_.

Watching Kaon stab the mnemosurgeon’s needles deep into the traitorous little slagger’s head, weeping dark oily tears from empty sockets, had been so very, _very_ satisfying.

Tarn liked to pretend that he’d moved on, that all his anger and bitterness remained in the past - but it didn’t. He’d sworn to be more careful with Kaon in the future, that Kaon would know who it was he belonged to, that he would never stray again…

And yet, the sight of Kaon pinning Pharma up against his office wall, Pharma’s thighs wrapped tightly around his hips, ignited not jealousy, but _desire._

Still, it was gratifying how they froze when they heard his Voice: how quickly and shamefacedly Kaon tore his mouth from Pharma’s, how Pharma’s helm whipped towards Tarn at a speed that could have snapped a cable. Tarn chuckled darkly, framed in the doorway to his quarters, taking a moment to simply _loom._ He let his optics rove over them, a lingering, inscrutable stare that left both Kaon and Pharma squirming.

Primus, they were beautiful: his two favorite playthings, humming with charge, so intent upon each other that it took his Voice for them to even notice him. Pharma was exquisitely flustered, faceplates so hot they steamed. His field buzzed with a heady mixture of terror and desire, as familiar to Tarn as the scent of his own lubricant. Kaon was possessive, of course, clinging to his prize; his expression wary and pleading, as if to say, _Please Tarn, don’t take him from me._

Tarn’s gaze traveled downwards, to where modesty panel still met modesty panel. He whetted his lips as he caught a tiny glimpse of telltale blue paint scraped on Kaon’s hips. There would be flakes of red all over Pharma’s inner thighs, marks where he’d clung so tight and eager to the electric chair’s frame while trying to get at his still-hidden spike -

Kaon reset his vocalizer and set Pharma down with something like chagrin.

“Tarn,” he said. He didn’t drop his head, but his empty sockets began to shutter, his field radiating confusion and apology.

“Kaon,” Tarn replied, tonelessly. Let the chair wonder what Tarn was thinking. Let him cower just a little longer. “Having fun, are we?”

Kaon flinched, his fingers flexing as his coils whined softly behind him. He was trying to read Tarn’s field, trying to determine if he was angry. Tarn pulled his field in close to his plating, as tight as it could go. _You won’t get off that easily, sweetspark._

Pharma glanced between Kaon and Tarn, wings fluttering anxiously when neither of the DJD members offered anything else to fill the silence. “Tarn, I can explain - ”

“Can you indeed.” Tarn hummed a soft, lazy note, casting a cursory glance at the Autobot medic. Now that Pharma mentioned it, it was rather odd for these two to be so… intimate. They’d never been friendly - Kaon too jealous and Pharma too haughty to ever deign to offer so much as a polite greeting. “Go on then. I’m _exceedingly_ curious how two mechs who barely spoke to one another before this morning came to be pawing at one another against my office wall - especially since one of you shouldn’t even be capable of _standing_ right now, let alone _fragging._ ” He tilted his helm, optics flaring deep crimson. “It must be a very interesting story indeed.”

Pharma took a step backwards, towards Kaon, just as Kaon stepped forward to catch him - almost like they’d planned it. Tarn tracked and recorded the movement, the perfectly synced way they reached for each other at the exact same instant. Kaon caught one of Pharma’s hands in his while Pharma’s other arm snapped protectively outwards in front of Kaon, as though he was…

As though he was guarding him. As though he was guarding him _from Tarn._

Tarn’s optics narrowed, a quiet sense of foreboding sounding a warning at the back of his processor.

“He was going to die,” Pharma said. His voice was level, but his plating rustled and flared in a common threat pattern. “His spark was close to flickering out entirely. I did what any good medic would do - I _saved_ him.”

Tarn made a derisive sound. “Saved him… with an overload,” he said. “How terribly convenient.” He smiled to himself, the tilt of his helm deepening to an impish angle. “If you wanted to interface with my communications officer, Pharma, you need only have asked.”

Pharma bristled, plating flaring wider - but only for a moment.  Behind him, Kaon brightened, lightning humming a happy song between his coils. “Really?!” he said, wearing a brilliant smile. “Only you’ve been so busy with Pharma and you haven’t let anyone else near me in so long - ”

 _Oh._ A tiny sting of guilt gnawed at Tarn’s spark. He _had_ become rather preoccupied with his new toy, hadn’t he? He hadn’t let Kaon into his berth since - he tried to count, but he’d lost track of the last time they’d been together. _You’re almost as bad as he was with the Pet._

_Almost._

“He was literally nanokliks from spark extinguishment, Tarn,” Pharma snapped, ignoring Kaon and interrupting Tarn’s train of thought. The medic was feeling unusually bold today; perhaps he expected Kaon would protect him if Tarn grew angry with him. _Don’t be a fool. Kaon does I ask. He’s mine to command, whatever intimacies you think you share._ “I only did what I had to. This had nothing to do with some - some secret affair, or whatever you think it was. I did my job as a medic, nothing more.”

Tarn gave a low, rumbling laugh. “The medic doth protest too much, I think,” he said. “I suppose Kaon told you afterward that he’s survived this punishment several times before?”

Pharma pursed his lips. “I don’t care what he’s survived,” he said. “I know what a dying spark looks like. If I hadn’t… ah… _operated_ on him - ”

“ _Overloaded_ him,” Tarn corrected mildly.

Pharma glared at him, mouth snapping shut. Even from here Tarn could feel the humiliation pulsing through the Autobot. He could all but taste Pharma’s shame and guilt, so thick on the air it prickled over the tank’s frame with a delicious physicality. It wasn’t unlike what Tarn felt from Pharma when he fragged the doctor senseless, enjoying the hot, slick squeeze of Pharma’s valve and the burning ache of his self-loathing as he was slowly driven up and up and up into overload…

_Patience. All in good time. They’ll be good and let you share. They know their place._

Well, whatever Pharma claimed to have thought, he had chosen to overload his patient by spark - an intimacy that Kaon would no doubt look on as a sign of attraction and desire. Kaon could be oddly romantic that way sometimes. Tarn was no longer surprised that Kaon was so eager to get his hands on the good doctor; he wanted to be close to the mech who had touched his spark, seeing him now as his lover rather than his enemy.

Pharma, though… Pharma’s response was more puzzling. He’d never so much as vented in Kaon’s direction if he could help it. What had driven him from haughty nemesis to lover and protector? Why had he been so eager to save Kaon - eager enough to engage in interface with him?

A question to ponder later. For the moment, Tarn had far more pressing issues to attend to, namely the very bright, very loud interface protocols demanding permission to proceed on his HUD. “Do you want to know what I think?” he said, folding his hands behind his back and taking a step towards the pair. “I think that you must have seen Kaon’s spark flaring and panicked. I think you realized what was wrong by process of medical deduction, using that ever-so brilliant mind of yours.”

Pharma preened despite himself, a peculiar mixture of a grimace and a smirk.

“I think,” Tarn continued, taking another step towards them, “That you realized you had an opportunity and took advantage. And I think that you both decided to chase another overload in a rather less poetic manner once Kaon awoke and realized what had happened.”

Pharma glanced at Kaon’s face. They almost seemed to exchange a look - though of course that was impossible. Kaon’s fingers squeezed Pharma’s in a barely perceptible gesture, and their locked gazes suddenly broke.

“Well, doctor?” Tarn said, unfolding his hands and spreading them wide in front of him. “Am I close?”

Pharma gritted his dentae, looking for all the world like his next words caused him physical pain. “That… is about the shape of it, yes. With the notable exception of my intent - ”

Kaon _squeezed,_ fingers clenching tight around Pharma’s, and Pharma snapped his mouth closed, falling silent.

“Hmm.” Tarn narrowed his optics, tilting his head. He ought to be angrier that his punishment had been so rudely aborted. He ought to be angrier that Kaon had deliberately disobeyed him, pursuing a mech without Tarn’s explicit permission. He ought to be angry at Pharma for thinking he could just frag whoever he wished in the DJD, without Tarn’s approval.

But anger was about as far from his thoughts as it could be at the moment.

“I admit I’m glad to see you two become so… _intimate_ ,” Tarn said. His voice was a sinful, rolling purr, carrying all the physical weight of a caress. “My two closest berthmates should certainly be friends, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Kaon said, without hesitation.

“I suppose…” Pharma said at the same time. Another look passed between them, a glance-without-glancing that Tarn had never seen before. It was fascinating to watch: like seeing the clicking internals of an ancient clock beginning to work anew.

“I would **_very much like_** for you to be _friends_ ,” Tarn said, punctuating the most important words with the Voice: not to hurt this time, but to awaken. To arouse. Both of their frames had begun to cool, any interface protocols that had been running shutting down one by one; and that simply wouldn’t do for what Tarn wanted next. “ ** _Best of friends_**. And I would be very **_pleased_** to watch you **_consummate that friendship._** ”

Pharma made a choked sound, his fans kicking into high gear despite the outraged noise that bubbled out of him. “Are you proposing to watch us interface? ” he cried, the words bleeding offended static.

“I wouldn’t consider it a proposal as such,” Tarn said, in that same deceptively urbane tone. “More of a… how to say this politely? A _command._ Your enjoyment of my communications officer does not come without provisions, doctor.”

Pharma’s optics cycled bright and wide. “Are you serious?” he said. “You can’t just - you can’t just force your way into Kaon’s berth like that. He’s not some mindless pleasure drone you can use and watch at will!”

“I don’t mind,” Kaon said, breathlessly, charge crackling over his coils. They hummed bright and beautiful behind him, like electric exclamation points punctuating the excited trembling of his frame. “I don’t mind at all. I want you with us.”

 _Oh, sweetspark,_ Tarn thought, spark spinning up in a dizzy swirl of happiness. _My dear and darling Kaon… I swear I’ll never neglect you again._

“Are you going to direct?” Kaon asked. He bounced up on his pedes, squeezing Pharma tight against his torso. “I love it when you direct. You’ll use the Voice too, right? Since I can’t properly - ”

“Don’t you encourage him!” Pharma hissed, squirming in Kaon’s grip in an attempt to face him. It was adorable to watch him struggle against the vice-like arms that held him. He’d forgotten that Kaon was both bigger and stronger, it seemed. “This isn’t - I never - I can’t - !”

“Oh, **_come now, Pharma,_ ** ” Tarn cooed, layering the Voice with dark, delectable pleasure.  “Don’t be a spoilsport. It will be **_fun._ ** Just **_think_ ** of all the **_naughty little hints_ ** I can share with Kaon while he **_frags you senseless_** …”

The noise that came out of Pharma’s mouth this time was far closer to a moan. “I - please, I can’t - ”

“No? **_Are you sure?_** ” Tarn said silkily. He closed the distance between himself and the pair, his frame looming huge and hot against Pharma’s. Pharma’s optics widened, realizing he was trapped - Kaon at his back, Tarn at his front, pinning him as effectively as any chains. “But **_think_** of the **_possibilities_** _._ In fact… why don’t I **_give_** you a little **_demonstration_** _?_ ”

Pharma’s fans whined as they spun up several levels. His legs shook with the effort to stay up as Tarn’s voice crawled all over him, down into his circuits, deep beneath his plating. He shivered, his mouth going slack, as Kaon made a small staticky sound of pleasure. One black hand slid its way to Pharma’s panel while Tarn watched, circling the rapidly heating metal in tender, questing circles. Pharma jerked and arched his back, leaning back against Kaon’s shoulder with an audible cry. “Please - ” he whispered; though whether he was begging for them to stop or to continue, Tarn couldn’t really say.

Not that he actually _cared._

Heat flared from heels to helm in a hungry, greedy wave as Tarn leaned in close, scenting both Kaon and Pharma’s arousal as both began to lubricate. “The mask interferes with so many things,” Tarn said, looking at Pharma’s mouth. “ ** _So many things Pharma begs for when I frag him…_ **”

Pharma licked his lips, his cockpit rattling as his whole frame trembled. His fans clicked up several notches just as Kaon’s turbine booted into high gear. Kaon bared his teeth in a feral grin, nuzzling Pharma’s audial. “Let me guess,” he said, licking Pharma’s audial with a teasing flick of his glossa. Pharma jerked, optics flashing and then dimming in a few brief, brilliant strobes. “Is it biting he likes?”

Tarn smiled, engine revving. “ ** _Very_ ** **_good, Kaon,_ ** ” he said, gaze locked on the two mechs as both twitched and panted, fans clicking up yet again. As much as Tarn wanted to be at the center, he adored fragging his partners like this: controlling every single instant of their interfacing with his Voice alone, watching them squirm and plead for him as he stood above them... “ ** _He likes a little_ ** **_pain_ ** **_with his_ ** **_pleasure_ **…”

Pharma barely suppressed a cry, slapping the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle the sound. His field burst with bright fireworks of desire and need. Kaon’s grin widened as he pressed a soft little kiss to the medic’s audial: then another; then another. Tarn watched, dry-mouthed, half tempted to lean against the opposite wall and pop his panels -

Kaon bit down, the metal beneath his mouth squealing with the pressure of his teeth, and Pharma _finally_ moaned, his legs giving out and his panel snapping back. Tarn hissed as the heady scent of lubricant filled his olfactory, barely overriding his own panel in time. “ ** _Very good,_ ** ” Tarn said, letting his field brush teasingly over Pharma’s frame. “ ** _Again._ **”

Kaon was panting now, sizzling with sparks. He obliged, going lower, to Pharma’s jaw. Pharma’s mouth fell open, a sound so delicious escaping him that Tarn had to override his panel a second time. “ ** _Again,_ **” he ordered.

Kaon caught Pharma’s chin and turned his face towards him, kissing Pharma sweetly on the lips: then deeper, pressing his mouth open, teasing him with his tongue…

He caught Pharma’s lower lip between his teeth, nipping down upon it. Lubricant instantly spilled out Pharma’s valve and over his thighs, pretty and pearly against his blue paint and the transfers of Kaon's red.

“ ** _Pit, you are exquisite,_ ** ” Tarn growled, leaning as close as he dared allow himself. “ ** _Kaon - he likes it hard. Two fingers. Don’t prepare him, he wants it to hurt_** _._ ”

“Nnn - ” Pharma choked out, arching up in Kaon’s grip. “No, wait, I want - ”

Kaon nuzzled his helm and shifted, leaning flat against the wall for support. He bent his knees until he was sitting in an almost chair-like position, planting his feet so that he wouldn’t slip; then he set Pharma in his lap, both mechs still facing Tarn so he could see everything. Pharma leaned his back against Kaon’s torso, his helm falling against Kaon’s shoulder with a clunk _._

“I know,” Kaon murmured. “I know, darling. Sit on me and spread your legs.” Pharma obeyed, as if he was in a trance, sliding his legs apart and exposing his slick valve to Tarn’s eyes. “There,” Kaon said, stroking Pharma’s chest. “What a good, pretty medic. My brilliant, perfect, beautiful Pharma…”

Tarn had never seen Pharma spiral into bliss the way he did then: optics flaring and then fading, legs parting wider as his vocalizer spat static. His node glowed a brilliant cherry red, tucked teasingly between swollen navy valve lips that glittered with strands of lubricant. Tarn had seen it before, but looking at it from this angle, when he was forcing himself not to touch, was like seeing it for the first time. “ ** _Beautiful,_ ** ” he echoed, in that same sinful purr; and Pharma’s valve visibly _squeezed,_ a tiny rush of lubricant gushing lewdly onto Kaon’s lap.

Kaon’s coils burst again, static charge as good as a moan. “Primus, I wish I could see you,” he hissed, sliding his hand down Pharma’s golden cockpit.

" _Shall I narrate?_ ” Tarn said. He usually did for Kaon: describing how Kaon’s valve and spike looked, how his own array looked, the expressions Kaon made as Tarn's Voice pushed him to the brink. “ ** _You’ve made him so_** ** _wet._** ** _His node pulses every time you lean in close, every time you speak… it’s pulsing right now, throbbing. You shouldn’t keep him waiting, sweetspark._** ** _Play_** ** _with it._**”

Kaon’s hand slid the rest of the way down, pressing apart Pharma’s valve lips so Tarn could see: framing the aching node between pointer and middle finger before rubbing a circle around the lips and then finally pressing a fingertip to the little sensor. Pharma cried out, sobbing, _“Kaon!!_ ” as the bigger mech drew a leisurely circle over the wet node. Kaon hissed again and rolled the node between two fingers, lunging forward to bite at Pharma’s neck cabling. Pharma wailed, arching up and into Kaon’s hand, panting raggedly. He was absolutely _dripping_ now, valve lips pressing apart to welcome those fingers inside.

" _P_ _lease,_ ” he begged, and this time, Tarn was certain of what he wanted.

 **_"Palm his valve, but don’t enter him yet,_ ** ” Tarn said. He was focused entirely on the two in front of him, his Voice a hungry rasp as Kaon’s coils glowed, lighting them up for Tarn’s pleasure. " ** _Use the biolight on your hand._ **”

Kaon grinned up at Tarn. “Yes, sir _,_ ” he said. He curled his hand around Pharma’s eager valve, fingers just barely brushing the entrance; and when Pharma tried to push into the touch, Kaon smirked and shocked his little node, a bolt of lightning from his palm licking the throbbing sensor beneath.

Pharma cried out - almost screamed - writhing in Kaon’s lap. Kaon did it again, then again, then again: Pharma jerking upward every time, his plating crackling with charge.

He was a few moments shy of an overload. Tarn could feel it cresting in Pharma’s unrestrained field, starting to drag Kaon up with him. Kaon’s fans shrieked as his frame heated to an untenable temperature, static dancing over both him and Pharma. Kaon looked up expectantly, waiting for Tarn’s permission, waiting for Tarn to say that they could overload...

Tarn smiled darkly and said instead, “ ** _Stop._ **”

Kaon’s hand snapped back and away from Pharma’s array, even as a betrayed look crossed his face. _::Good boy,_ :: Tarn commed him. _::Very good. Don’t worry, pet, you’ll get your way soon, I promise.::_

Kaon relaxed just as Pharma sat up, grabbing Kaon’s knees for support and dragging his dripping valve along Kaon’s thigh in a desperate bid for stimulation. “No, please - !” he cried, trying to press his node against the hot metal beneath him. Kaon caught his hips and stilled him, barely stifling a groan. “Tarn, I’m so close, I _need_ \- ”

“Oh, dear, so soon?” Tarn clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, folding his arms over his chest. “That won’t do. That won’t do at _all._ I’m afraid we must let you sit and cool down. I would certainly hate to overheat your poor little frame so early in the evening…”

 _"Tarn!_ ” Pharma sobbed. “Please let me overload, please let Kaon overload me! I need it, I need you, I - ”

Every single fan in Tarn’s frame roared to life at that perfect phrase: _I need you._ He needed _Tarn._ He craved _Tarn._ It didn’t matter that he’d started with Kaon, that he’d included Kaon in his pleas - he was still begging Tarn for his benediction, begging Tarn’s permission.

He was still Tarn’s creature to command, no matter who he’d chosen to frag.

“K ** _ao_** n,” Tarn said, his voice rough and ravenous. He’d lost some of his control over his voice, random syllables alight with lust. “Let him **_up and get_ ** on your **_knees_ ** in front of **_him_ **.”

Kaon shot white lightning, a sizzling wave bursting over Tarn in static shocks. Kaon _loved_ eating out his lovers; it was his favorite act, the closest and best way for him to feel and see and know his lover’s array. Tarn shouldn’t be rewarding him with such a treat, but Primus, he wanted to watch…

Kaon pushed himself to his feet and set Pharma down, turning him delicately so that the mech could lean against the wall. Then, without needing to ask, he dropped onto his knees and lifted Pharma up once more, slinging Pharma’s thighs over his shoulders and burying his olfactory against Pharma’s valve with a vicious little snarl.

Tarn swallowed a groan, grinding his palm into his modesty panel. His processor spun with half-imagined pictures of what he was about to witness: Kaon shuddering and alight with charge while Pharma squirmed against his mouth, riding his tongue; the serene little smirk on Kaon’s face when he withdrew, coated in Pharma’s fluids, licking his fingers clean. Pharma scraping his brilliant medic’s hands over Kaon’s helm, his hips jerking and his thighs spread wide and his spinal struts bowing as he rode Kaon’s glossa straight to blue-screened oblivion.

Tarn roughly issued an internal command to record and stream the data feed to his private files. He wanted to have this forever, for darker and lonelier nights when neither his medic nor his second were nearby to keep him warm…

He grunted and pressed himself back against the opposing corridor wall, palming his panel harder. His optics burned as Pharma gasped and looked down at the mech between his legs, his hands instinctively closing around the coils for support. Kaon made a guttural noise, shutting them down while he still had the presence of mind and the physical capability of doing so. His charge would overwhelm him the more aroused he became, and eventually, Pharma would get a vastly painful shock. Maybe when he overloaded, even. Tarn bucked into his own hand, imagining Pharma screaming in pain and pleasure, sobbing through the most powerful overload of his life to the tune of Tarn’s Voice and Kaon’s coils…

Pharma froze, his spine stiffening, a panicked sound escaping his vocalizer.

He let go of Kaon with a hiss, tapping the chair’s helm with the flat of his palm. “Put me down,” he whispered.

“Do **_not,_ ** ” Tarn snarled, plating flaring in fury. What did Pharma think he was playing at? They had an _arrangement._ Tarn had even been generous enough not to frag Pharma himself. They were damn well not stopping now, not unless the planet itself was about to destruct -

Kaon pulled back, sparking with alarm, and helped Pharma to his feet, ignoring the furious note in Tarn’s voice. He took several steps backwards as Pharma shakily hobbled the opposite direction, away from the pair to -

Pharma lifted a hand to his audial and tapped it twice. “Ambulon,” he said in a level voice.

Primus damn the Autobots. His base was calling him. Tarn growled, helm thunking back against the wall as arousal and annoyance ran rampant through his lines. “Incredible,” Tarn muttered. “Somehow, the Autobots truly manage to ruin _everything._ ”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Pharma lied over his comm, casting Tarn a dirty look. It was honestly quite impressive how calm he seemed - even as his panel snapped shut and his pede bounced in irritation. “Still in my habsuite working. Prowl put in a high priority call - some research that requires my exclusive attention.”

A pause while Pharma listened, glaring at the wall. Kaon radiated disappointment on the opposite side of the hall, hand half outstretched towards Pharma, as if he could drag him back to the brief instants before the call. Tarn hummed a soft note, and Kaon turned towards him, tilting his helm quizzically.

Tarn opened his arms and gestured. _::Come here, pet.::_

Kaon made a little _kzzzt_ sound and bounded across the hall, curling himself as close to Tarn as he could manage. He leaned against Tarn’s chassis, nuzzling the hot space above his spark with a contented vent. Tarn closed one arm over Kaon’s waist and laid the other hand on Kaon’s helm, petting him fondly. _::There. That’s better.::_

“No, nothing you can help with,” Pharma said. Tarn looked up and glared daggers at his medic, wishing he could cut into Pharma’s private line and murder the mech on the other end. “It’s classified. I did mention _Prowl_ asked me to do it, didn’t I? You _do_ know who Prowl is, don’t you?” Another pause. “Well, you _are_ a Decepticon. Alright, fine, _were._ You might not know these things.” His voice was full of condescension and mockery and something like loathing - a sentiment Tarn echoed, especially under the circumstances.

Now that he thought about it, it was perhaps a strange twist that Pharma was risking his neck to protect a mech he so obviously disliked. Or appeared to dislike, anyway.

“No, thank you, I’m finishing up here anyway,” Pharma continued. “I’ll be out for rounds when the duty shift changes. Yes. Excellent. Thank you, Ambulon.”

Pharma cut the connection and vented into the heavy silence, pinching the bridge of his nose. The quiet made Tarn’s plating itch, the rapid cooling of his panel and the whir of his fans winding down echoing his dissatisfaction.

If only he could just… _keep_ Pharma; move him into his quarters, perhaps, or let him stay near Kaon. Kaon wasn’t likely to let Pharma go anywhere unsupervised - more effective than any chains or shock collar or guard dog or prison walls. Then they could - they could -

No. He was being irrational and stupid - thinking with his spike and not his processor. If he kept Pharma - if he blew Pharma’s cover - he would lose his source of t-cogs. Having a surgeon on his team was certainly useful, but they had lived without one for centuries. Pharma’s primary purpose was to bring Tarn t-cogs and install them, nothing more. Tarn was already being selfish by bargaining with him like this; he couldn’t prove himself a fool too by making such an obvious mistake.

Tarn ran a hand over his eyes. “I take it you’re leaving us,” he said.

“It would appear I have no choice.” At least Pharma sounded as displeased about it as Tarn felt. Pharma turned back to them and offered a helpless shrug, dragging his field in close. He was all business again, clinical and distant; barely recognizable as the debauched and sobbing creature he’d been mere kliks ago. “Before we… ah… got distracted, First Aid pinged me to ask where I was. I must have forgotten to send my reply. I gather he was fretting, and Ambulon grew tired of listening to him about it.”

“How very unfortunate.” Tarn’s voice was flat with barely suppressed anger. Kaon shuddered against his chest, want and anxiety filling his frame. Tarn petted him soothingly - absent reassurance, almost automatic at this point. “Very well; go if you must. But I’ll expect you early for our next scheduled appointment, and I want your afternoon clear of _any_ activity. I would like to continue this little adventure without any… _unpleasant_ interruptions.”

Pharma offered Tarn a sardonic bow and a knowing little smirk. “Why, of  _course_ , Tarn. As you command.”

Mmm. Pretty words from a pretty, perjuring medic. Tarn held out his hand, and Pharma warily stepped closer to take it, making a startled sound when Tarn pulled him into his embrace beside Kaon. Kaon moved an arm around Pharma’s waist and pressed his faceplate to Pharma’s audial while Tarn stroked the side of Pharma’s helm, grinning when Pharma unconsciously nuzzled into the touch. “Oh, and doctor?”

“Hmm?” Pharma hummed, optics dimmed, reaching out for Kaon.

“Add three T-cogs to your quota as well.”

Pharma’s hand froze mid-motion. The crackle of anxiety and shock in his frame mollified at least _some_ of Tarn’s ire. “But - !”

“Three additional T-cogs,” Tarn repeated, in that same soothing, affectionate tone. “Be glad it isn’t worse.” He turned to Kaon and pressed his forehead against the smaller mech’s. “Kaon, get him back to base. When you return, come to my office directly.”

Kaon frowned. “What for? Something to discuss?”

Tarn’s grip on Kaon’s helm tightened painfully. “Why, your punishment, of course,” he said. “Since my first attempt was so hastily terminated. You didn’t think I’d let your actions today slide _that_ easily, did you?”

Kaon shivered, but offered no protests, accepting his fate with a grim nod.

Pharma, however, was not so easily cowed. He shrugged off Tarn’s arm, his field striking Tarn’s with a whiplash of fury. “Almost killing him wasn’t enough for you?” he snapped.

 _"Pharma_ ,” Tarn growled. “Five additional t-cogs, and I’ll expect your evening free during our appointment, too. Whatever excuse you must make, do it. Now _get out,_ before I change my mind. I’m happy to make it worse if I must.”

Pharma made a choked, mutinous sound, swallowing whatever retort he wished he could say aloud. Tarn glared back at him imperiously, taking no joy in the way Pharma’s wings drooped in submission, his helm bowing and fists clenching as he turned away.

“Come, Kaon,” the medic said. “Let’s go.”

Kaon followed obediently, glancing over his shoulder at Tarn with a worried frown before running to take Pharma’s hand. Tarn watched as Pharma caught the chair around the waist instead, leaning into Kaon’s side and falling into sync with Kaon’s steps as they retreated through the corridor.

When they had disappeared around a bend in the hall, Tarn finally let his field unfurl from his frame, burning with aching lust and disappointment. _Next time,_ he reassured himself, stroking a hand over his plating. _Next time, I’ll get every little thing I want._


End file.
